I made mention that he’d said “we,” and he got the dimpled smile again. “I’m afraid it’s a bit of an affectation. There is no ‘we’ really. It’s just me.”
Dan excused himself to get the drinks and as soon as he left the room Stone’s smile faded. “What is with the cops?” he muttered under his breath. He let out a heavy sigh. “It couldn’t be more obvious. He killed my sister.” His expression changed to frustration. “The cops claim they’re working on it, but don’t have the right kind of evidence yet.” He looked toward the kitchen. “Don’t say anything to Dan. I’m trying to make it look like I’m on his side. But I want to find the evidence they need to lock him up. I’m not going anywhere until that detective takes Dan into custody.”
As Dan came back in the room Stone’s demeanor changed back to friendly. Dan set down a tray of glasses and a large bottle of Mountain Dew. “This stuff is great,” he said pouring the greenish carbonated drink over the ice in the glasses. We took a couple of polite sips and then said we both needed to be on our way.
“If we could look for our things,” I said, purposely being vague this time. I got up and made a move toward the workroom. Dinah set down her glass and followed. Dan got in front of us and led the way. Stone took up the rear.
Dan opened the door with a certain amount of trepidation. “This was her special place. She never allowed any of us in here,” he said as he stepped inside. His eyes swept the room. “You know how it is with kids. They knock everything around, and I suppose she was worried they’d start playing with her computer. She had an online business selling things she’d crocheted and I think she thought the kids would mess things up.” He seemed a little hurt. “But I don’t know why she kept me out.”
I remembered hearing about an online business. Sheila had mentioned that Kelly was interested in selling things to Luxe, but apparently that was another avenue for Kelly’s pieces. Now her yarn supply and the stash of shipping boxes made sense. I tried to get more details, but he shrugged. “It was strictly her business.” He touched the computer table. “I think it was because she’d been married before and wanted something of her own. She had some trust issues.”
It was eerie being in the room now, knowing that this is where Kelly had been shot. There was a faint smell of bleach and part of the carpet had been cut out. The room seemed shadowy and dim and I realized the line of poplar trees from the production company were still in front of the sliding glass door. Dan looked around for a light. He passed on the full-spectrum lamp next to the Mission-style chair and found an overhead light that illuminated the room. It seemed like someone had cleaned up after the cops had left, but not done a very good job of it. The plastic bins were stacked against the wall, but they were askew, as were the unfolded shipping boxes on the floor.
“Was the room ransacked?” Dinah asked.
“It was a mess when I came in.” Dan swallowed hard and his voice became a monotone as he told us that he’d just stopped home that day for a few minutes and hadn’t expected Kelly to be there. He’d seen the door to her workroom open. At that, he stopped. “I’ve told this story so many times, it should be easier,” he said. “She was lying there on her back.” He swallowed again and shook his head as if he couldn’t describe it one more time. “The plastic bins were knocked around and there was yarn everywhere.”
I said I’d heard Kelly had been shot and asked if he’d seen a gun. He appeared very uncomfortable as he acknowledged that she had been shot, but then shook his head and said he didn’t know anything about a gun.
“Was there anything missing?” I asked as I glanced around the room trying to compare it to what I’d seen before.
“The cops asked the same question. All I can tell you is the truth. Like I said, I was almost never in here. I don’t even know what she had in here.” Dan didn’t seem to care why I’d asked.
I looked at the library table that held her computer. “There was a lamp there,” I said. “It had a leaded glass shade. . . .” I looked toward Dan, but he just shrugged and said he didn’t know anything about it, and no it hadn’t been one of the things the cops took.
It seemed like we’d found out all we were going to, and I started to go back toward the door, but Dinah was jerking her head, trying to get my attention. “Molly, your sweater,” she said in a pointed tone. “And my reading glasses.” I retraced my steps and as Dan and Stone watched, Dinah and I pretended to look for our stuff.
“I guess we were wrong,” I said, finally as Dinah and I walked through the door and continued toward the front door.
Dan followed along behind us. “I know it sounds strange that I didn’t know much about what Kelly was doing, but I’ve been consumed with trying to make my dollar store work,” he said. “I’m hoping to have the stores all over the country. But first I have to make this one work. The dollar store business is very competitive now.” His tone had changed and he sounded animated and excited as he brought up the dollar-of-the-hour special. I saw Dinah start to flinch and I hurried her out of there before she could bring up her issues with it. He called after us that he hadn’t forgotten her prize and would give it to her next time she came in the store.
When we were back on the street, Dinah and I compared our thoughts. “You know sometimes a cigar is just a cigar,” she said. “You saw how he said he didn’t know anything about the gun, but thanks to Adele we know he owns one, and it’s just unnatural the way he is so gung ho about his store when his wife has just died. Maybe this time, the obvious is the right answer. Maybe Dan really did kill Kelly?”
“But why would he take the leaded glass lamp?” I said.
CHAPTER 13
Shedd & Royal Books and More was buzzing when I walked in after leaving Dinah at her house. The production group must have been on some kind of break, because I recognized a number of them coming out of the café.
Mrs. Shedd was pointing out our selection of e-readers to a customer. My boss urged the woman to pick it up and try it out. No sooner had the woman taken Mrs. Shedd’s suggestion, when an earsplitting wail started. All the activity in the bookstore stopped and everyone’s eyes were on the table, the e-reader and the woman holding it. The customer dropped the small device like it was a hot tamale and made a fast exit while Mrs. Shedd put her hands over her ears and looked around, asking for help.
After the incident with the neighborhood shoplifters, Mr. Royal had decided we needed some security measures on the devices. Though he’d been everywhere and done everything, he still occasionally overestimated his abilities. It was certainly true when it came to the do-it-yourself alarm system he’d bought at the hardware store. There was a plastic leash on each of the e-readers now and you were supposed to be able to pick one up and move it around without a problem. The alarm was only supposed to go off it someone tried to pull it free. Supposed to was the operative phrase here. “Where’s Joshua?” Mrs. Shedd said as the wail continued. “He knows how to shut this off.” She looked at me. “Molly, help! Can’t you do something?”
Suddenly Adele flounced through the gathered crowd and grabbed hold of the offending reader. She had something in her hand that she jammed into a little box on the leash and the awful noise stopped.
Adele turned toward all of us. “Look who saved the day—again.” She pointed toward herself. “Could it be me? Yes, I think it is.” She curtsied to the crowd and I rolled my eyes. With the noise stopped, the crowd went back to the café and browsing the bookstore.
“How did you do that?” Mrs. Shedd asked. Adele held up a key on an elaborate keychain with multiple pom-poms. “For some reason my house key fits into the slot,” she said, demonstrating just as Joshua Royal joined us. When he heard that Adele’s key fit in the alarm slot, he started trying to adjust it.
“Where have you been, Pink?” Adele said.
I was going to shrug off her question, but my evil twin took over. Between Eric giving her inside information about Kelly’s murder and now her fixing the e-reader alarm, Adele was gett
ing too big for the room and I couldn’t take it any longer.
“You want to know where I was?” I said with a subtle touch of one-upmanship in my voice. “Dinah and I went to Dan Donahue’s store and we found out that Dan Donahue was upset that Kelly didn’t help out in the store. We also went to the Donahue house and we met Kelly’s brother.” I took a breath. “You probably don’t know anything about him. His name is Stone Thomasville and he’s some kind of surfer champion.” I went from there to telling her how Dinah and I had looked around the room where Kelly was shot. “And we found out that Kelly had an online business selling things she crocheted.”
I couldn’t stop myself. It was horrible. I was acting just like Adele.
“You’re going to get yourself in trouble,” Adele sputtered. “Eric told me that he’d get me all the info I needed, but that I could get in a lot of trouble if I started investigating on my own. Interfering with a police investigation or something.” Joshua Royal stopped working on the alarm and looked up.
“You met Stone Thomasville?” he said with awe in his voice. He went over toward one of the bookshelves and came back a few minutes later holding a large coffee table picture book. He opened to a double page with a photograph of a man riding in the curl of a gigantic wave. He flipped the page and showed me the copy as he told me what it said.
“He won the Pipeline Master four times. Pipeline is a beach on Oahu’s north shore. It has the world’s deadliest waves. Surfers have died there, but Stone was like magic.” Mr. Royal flipped the page and there was a shot of a huge wave forming a tube. A little figure was inside it and appeared to be upside down. “That’s called a barrel roll. Body boarders do it a lot, but Stone is one of the only standing surfers to have mastered it.”
It turned out that in addition to everything else Joshua Royal had done while he was traveling around the world adventuring, he’d been a surfer. He was awed to think Stone was staying right down the street. Adele had her storm cloud face. It was making her crazy that she was out of the loop.
“Do you think he’d be willing to come in and sign his photo in some books?” Then Mr. Royal considered what he was asking. “I suppose it might be in bad taste under the circumstances.”
“I can ask him,” I said. Mr. Royal brightened and said he’d check with the distributor to see if he could get in a stack of copies.
“What a wonderful idea, Joshua,” Mrs. Shedd said, noticing the hefty price on the book’s jacket. She’d joined us and overheard the plan.
I hadn’t noticed that North Adams was carrying one of Bob’s primo cappuccinos and was standing on the outskirts of our little group. The star of L.A. 911 held the coffee drink up as if making a toast. “The cappuccinos here are the best.” He took a satisfying sip and set the cup down on the table with the e-readers. “I couldn’t help but overhear.” He turned his attention to me. “You’re investigating that woman’s death? Are you some kind of amateur sleuth?” he asked.
Adele answered for me. “Pink likes to think she’s a modern day Nancy Drew. But some of us are the real deal instead of just imitation fictional detectives. Adele Abrams, ad hoc PI, at your service,” she said.
North looked like he didn’t know whether to laugh or not, but then he seemed to figure out she wasn’t joking. Ad hoc private investigator? What did that even mean? “Maybe I can help. Being a detective on this show for all these years has given me some investigative skills.” His gaze went back and forth over both Adele and me.
Adele rolled her eyes, which luckily happened when North was looking at me. I thanked him for his offer and said I’d let him know when I heard anything new.
Later on Mrs. Shedd pulled me aside. “Good work, Molly,” Mrs. Shedd said. “Our goal is to keep Mr. Adams coming in here. If he wants to play armchair detective with you, we don’t want to stop him. But do what you can to control Adele.”
As if I could!
CHAPTER 14
I worked until the bookstore closed and evening was sliding into night when I headed for home. Even though it was August and the weather said summer, the daylight hours were dwindling. I drove home, thinking about a refreshing bath and an ice cream dinner. That plan died the moment I walked into my backyard.
The outdoor lights were on, illuminating Jeffrey and a group of his drama friends gathered around the umbrella table. They all had a bunch of stapled pages and I figured out they were doing a table read of some play. Jeffrey lifted a hand in greeting and then went back to hovering over his script.
Cosmo was enjoying all the activity, the small black mutt stretched out on the pavement watching. Having people around had the opposite effect on my other dog, Blondie, and without even looking I was sure she was holed up in my room. The cats were nowhere to be seen.
I walked into the kitchen and stopped short in the doorway. Barry was setting several pizza boxes on the counter. Next to him Detective Heather was counting out paper plates and napkins. She was still in her work suit and, when she moved, I saw her badge and her gun in a big belt around her waist. She flipped open the top pizza box and started putting slices on the plates. “I’ll take them out to the kids,” she said. As she turned and headed to the door she almost rammed into me.
“Oh,” she said and looked toward Barry.
“Molly, I’m so sorry. I thought this would be over before you got home. The place the kids were supposed to do the read fell apart at the last minute. Jeffrey asked if they could come here.”
Barry knew I had a soft spot for Jeffrey, or as his drama friends were probably calling him, Columbia. “Whatever. It’s okay,” I said. Detective Heather and I were still clogging up the doorway.
“I heard you were at the Donahue house today,” Heather said.
“Don’t go oiling your handcuffs,” I said trying to get past her. “It was just a condolence call and I thought I’d forgotten something when I was there before.” I should have left it at that, but I thought of Adele’s golden triangle of guilt. “I heard you found Dan’s gun.”
Detective Heather looked at me as if I hadn’t said anything.
Barry came toward us carrying a stack of paper plates with pizza slices. As we stepped aside to let him through, Heather touched his arm in a possessive manner. “Your leg bothering you, hon?” He said he was fine and went on outside.
“Don’t worry, Jeffrey and I will take care of the cleanup,” Heather said to me. “It’ll be a bonding experience.”
“Whatever,” I said walking through my kitchen. The last thing I needed right now was to watch Detective Heather show off her mothering skills. More than ever I longed for my room. As I passed the hall, Samuel came out of his room. “You should do something. He’s taking over the place.” He pointed toward the closed door of his room. “I had to put the cats in there.”
I was getting a little close to the edge. I didn’t say anything, but I thought of how my other son Peter had complained when Samuel had moved back home. And now Samuel was complaining about Barry.
“There’s too much commotion around here. I’m going over to Nell’s,” my son said. He’d started seeing CeeCee’s niece. I wasn’t sure if it was good or bad. Either way it was really none of my business. “She’s got that great guesthouse. Too bad we couldn’t build one here,” he said. He went back in his room and came out holding his guitar case. “Got a gig later,” he called as he went toward the front door.
I was already rethinking my plans as I entered my peaceful domain. No way could I relax in a bath, and did I really want to fill up a bowl with rich ice cream under Detective Heather’s judgmental stare? How had I managed to lose control of my own house?
When Mason had first mentioned that his daughter was getting married—back when he simply referred to her as “my oldest”—I’d decided to make a wedding hankie for her because of how I felt about him. I’d found a white linen one with no edging and then added a lacy trim with white crochet thread. I’d always intended to give it to him so he could pass it on to her. Now seemed like a go
od time to take it over there even though I’d be showing up unannounced. I wrote a note and wrapped the hankie in some tissue paper and put them in a rosy pink small shopping bag.
I took the back roads to get to Mason’s. It was dark and atmospheric as I passed the giant eucalyptus trees along Wells Drive and turned onto Valley Vista, which twisted though the rustically landscaped area of Encino. Mason’s house was on the other side of Ventura Boulevard and eventually, I turned onto a side street and headed north. It wasn’t quite the soothing bath I’d envisioned taking, but the ride did a lot to smooth out the kinks.
I parked in front of his sprawling ranch-style house. Soft lights illuminated the white-barked beech trees in the sloping front yard. I rethought the idea of just ringing his doorbell, and was about to call him on my phone, but then decided a call would make too big a production out of it. If no one answered the door, I would just leave the package.
I loved the redbrick walkway that led to the small porch in front of the door. I was pleased with how I packaged the hankie in the deep pink shopping bag. I punched the bell and, after a beat, bent down to leave the package. When I felt the whoosh of the door opening, I grabbed the bag and straightened.
“I thought you weren’t home,” I said expecting to see Mason. Instead a blond woman stood in the doorway, looking me up and down.
I admit I was also eyeing her, wondering who she was. I had a sudden desire to leave. I’d been the third wheel enough today. “If you could give this to Mason. It’s for his daughter,” I said pushing the shopping bag on her. “I made her something for her wedding, but I don’t really know her.” I was babbling and I wanted to get out of there. She took the bag and rustled through the tissue paper. She pulled out the hankie and didn’t seem to know what to do with it. Finally she dropped it back in the bag.
If Hooks Could Kill Page 10
