You Better Knot Die cm-5

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You Better Knot Die cm-5 Page 23

by Betty Hechtman


  “You don’t want to know,” I said in a teasing voice.

  “You’re right,” he said in a light tone as he put his arm around my shoulder. We flopped on the couch. “Just remember, all arrows point toward your neighbor. Heather thinks there was no blood on her clothes because she was wearing some kind of covering like a rain poncho and had on gloves. She hasn’t bothered you again, has she?”

  Samuel came in later and the noise of him rummaging around the kitchen woke me up with a start. I was sitting up on the couch nestled next to Barry. We must have fallen asleep in midconversation. After thinking my bike tread idea was good, Barry’d gone back to telling me to let it go. When I said nothing, I think he’d smiled, thinking it meant I was agreeing.

  Not exactly.

  CHAPTER 26

  I MET DINAH OUT IN FRONT OF LUXE THE NEXT day. She was taking the kids to a holiday program at the library, and I was on my way to the bookstore. I had come up with a quick plan I thought would get me into Nicholas’s secret back area.

  “We could just ask to see his mountain bike,” Dinah said. “You could give him the same story you gave Mr. Royal about wanting to get one for Samuel.”

  “I already told Nicholas I was shopping for bike accessories. By the way, Mr. Royal hasn’t shown me his bike yet. He might have just said yes to end the subject and had no plan to follow through. He could know why I’m so anxious to see his bike. Remember the biker might have recognized us as he zipped by.” I looked at the kids. My idea was better. Who could turn down children?

  There were several customers browsing in Luxe who I recognized from the bookstore and I nodded a greeting. The kids wanted to leave and Ashley-Angela was getting dangerously close to a meltdown so I figured it was time to put the plan into action.

  Nicholas was waiting on someone and I realized it was William. I tried to calm Ashley-Angela by pointing out William was Koo Koo the clown. For a moment she stopped fussing as she watched Nicholas hand him a shoe box. But as soon as she saw the shoes were some kind of brown wool-lined ankle boots instead of the red clown shoes she expected, she started fussing again.

  My window of opportunity hadn’t even opened and already it was shutting. I went up to the counter and didn’t even wait for Nicholas to finish wishing William a nice trip before I interrupted.

  “I’m sorry, but it’s kind of an emergency,” I said, pointing at Ashley-Angela. “She needs to use the restroom.” I gestured toward the door to the back area.

  Nicholas glanced toward the kids. Ashley-Angela’s fidgeting gave credibility to my request. I knew he was going to go for it. He started to step away from the counter and I waved for Ashley-Angela to come. She broke free of Dinah’s hand and ran up to me.

  “Aunt Molly, why did you say I have to go potty? I don’t have to go,” she said. She looked up at Nicholas. “I didn’t tell her I had to go.” She rushed back toward the front door. “C’mon, I want to see the puppet show at the library. We’re going to miss it.”

  How could I have forgotten that kids were loose cannons?

  Dinah went on up the street toward the library and I headed to the bookstore. She said they’d be back in time for the Hookers’ gathering. Dinah looked a little worn. As much as she liked the kids, having a pair of almost five-year-old fraternal twins 24/7 was getting to her. I was glad I’d said I would take care of them for her evening out with Commander.

  As soon as I walked in, Mrs. Shedd and Mr. Royal were in my face. There were all kinds of logistics to go over about the launch party. It was the biggest event the bookstore had ever been involved with and there was even more riding on its success. Though I wondered if selling a bunch of books in one night would be enough to save the bookstore. “The eyes of the world are going to be on us,” Mrs. Shedd said. “We don’t even know who we’re dealing with. Suppose it’s some high-strung person who freaks out when faced with a bunch of people. There has to be a reason they’ve been keeping their identity secret.” Obviously, Mrs. Shedd had discounted what Adele said about it being her boyfriend.

  “Molly, all your events turn out off center,” Mrs. Shedd continued. “They’re interesting and people seem to like them. But this one is different. This one can’t end up in a riot.”

  We had a summit meeting in the café and by the end I think I’d calmed them both. I reminded them this wasn’t going to be an event where an author gave a talk. It was just going to be a long line of people getting their books signed. The key was how to handle the line and how to make sure it kept moving. We decided to have a meeting with everybody working the event later and we’d have sort of a dress rehearsal.

  When we dispersed, I went back in the bookstore and headed for the worktable. The Hookers were having their own little holiday gathering, and it was going to be our last meeting until after Christmas. We were celebrating with food and wrapping the scarves and other items we’d collected for the shelter. Everyone had nice comments about the elephant when I’d set it with the other things to be wrapped. The response to my other project was a little different.

  I’d made the most of the vampire look of the sparkly white head and sparkly black body by altering the penguin wings to look like arms and adding feet. I’d embroidered on happy-looking eyes and a smiling mouth with a drop of red dangling from a fang. Finally, I’d added puffy black hair. When I had set him down, Elise had squealed and named him Anthony. Then everyone, including Rhoda, said they wanted to make one, too.

  The store was busy for morning and now that our table was surrounded by the yarn display, we had shoppers around us looking at yarn and accessories while we had our get-together. I had to straddle being at the Hookers’ meeting and trying to help customers at the same time. Adele was doing the same thing, but I had to be on the lookout for any knitters. Though Adele had been okay with them once, who knew how she’d be the next time.

  I was surprised to see Madison Perkins come into the area. I hadn’t seen Bradley’s sister since the mall event. I wasn’t sure if I should offer my condolences again, now that Bradley was really dead. I think everyone else was thinking the same thing. Madison helped end the awkward moment by asking what we were all working on. While she looked over the collection of warm things for the shelter and admired my toy creations, I asked her if she’d seen Emily. Her face grew stern.

  “Under the circumstances I don’t want to see her,” Madison said. The circumstances being that at least Detective Heather was certain Emily had killed Bradley. “I wasn’t close to my brother, but still ...” She paused a beat and then added she’d had nothing to do with his business dealings. I looked at Dinah and nodded. We were on the same page. Could it have been Madison on the mountain bike?

  Madison walked over to the bins of yarn, saying she needed more of the royal blue yarn she’d gotten before. I hadn’t realized it, but it must have been pretty popular yarn because the bin was empty. I asked Madison for her phone number, assuring her I’d call her when some more came in. Really I just wanted a way to contact her.

  BY THE END OF THE DAY, I WAS BEGINNING TO rethink my offer to babysit the kids. Sitting on my couch and crocheting sounded better than trying to entertain Ashley-Angela and E. Conner. But I knew Dinah was looking forward to the evening with Commander.

  Mason was about to walk into the bookstore as I was coming out. He had his crochet bag with him, and when he saw me, he pulled out the half-done dog coat and said he needed help.

  When I told him about my babysitting gig, he wasn’t dissuaded and said he’d come along. We walked up the block to Dinah’s. She was all done up for her evening and so happy about going out she hugged both me and Mason while thanking us. Commander’s reaction was similar without all the hugs. When I saw how he looked at Dinah, I was extra glad I’d made the offer.

  His eyes really did light up.

  Once they left, Mason asked how it was going with my mountain-bike investigation.

  “Not well,” I said, mentioning that I’d only been able to check one set of tires ag
ainst the photo. I hadn’t told Dinah, but I was having second and third thoughts about the whole line of investigation. “And even if I find the right tires, what am I going to do?”

  Mason nodded in agreement. “Just because someone was riding up there doesn’t automatically tie them to the murder. Sorry, Sunshine.”

  “We want to play dreidel,” E. Conner said, coming up next to us as we sat on Dinah’s chartreuse couch. He disappeared and a moment later came back with the one they’d decorated. It wasn’t enough for just the two of them to play with the top, so Mason and I got looped into joining. Mason didn’t remember how to play and E. Conner explained the gambling game. He’d added some of his own rules. Instead of everyone having the same kind of candy to bet with, E. Conner’s rules had everyone beginning with something different. E. Conner got chocolate kisses, Ashley-Angela got little candy bars, Mason got raisins and I got chocolate coins. Mason and I weren’t exactly into it and we went back to talking about the whole situation with Bradley Perkins.

  We went back to the beginning and Mason brought up how the SEC investigator had based his belief that Bradley had taken his own life on the hunk of money left in the checking account. “What did you say the guy said?” Mason said, “Something about someone running off would never do that. They’d clean out everything.” Mason looked up at me as he absently fiddled with the holiday top. “Obviously the investigator was wrong and Perkins was clever enough to figure out that was what the SEC people would think.”

  I thought about it for a moment as E. Conner put one of his chocolate kisses into the pot. When no one else made a move to put their bet in, he took one of Mason’s raisins from his pile, a chocolate coin from mine and then reached for a candy bar from his sister’s. Ashley-Angela started to fuss because her brother hadn’t let her do it herself. I tried to calm her down and told her she could spin first.

  I turned to Mason. “Does it make sense that somebody who’d be calculating enough to leave money in an account to validate his suicide would also gamble away millions of dollars?” I said. Mason asked me how they figured out Bradley had lost the money by gambling. “I overheard the SEC investigator say that there were piles of checks written to different casinos and no money besides the amount in the checking account.”

  Ashley-Angela’s spin came up with the Hebrew letter Shin that meant she had to put one of her pieces into the pot. E. Conner went to add it for her and she went into a tantrum and said she didn’t want to play anymore. She went to take back her pieces, but instead she took all of her brother’s candy kisses. While I tried to keep them from socking each other, E. Conner said, according to the rules you couldn’t start with one kind of candy and then when you quit, take something else out. Mason made a joke that it was candy laundering.

  “I wonder ...” I was staring at the candies and thinking. “What if that’s what Bradley did—like Ashley-Angela, he put in one thing and came out with something else?”

  Mason’s face lit with understanding. “Good thinking, Sunshine, but in his case the stakes were a little higher,” Mason said with a chuckle. “He could have been putting in checks and coming out with cash.” Mason reached for his BlackBerry and started scrolling through numbers. “There’s a way to find out.”

  Mason said he had a contact in Vegas, which was no surprise. He seemed to have contacts everywhere. He made a call, and when he hung up, he was smiling and nodding. Mason’s contact was someone who acted as a concierge for big gamblers. He worked for one of the major hotels and it was his job to keep them happy. He knew who Bradley was right away.

  “He said the guy would change a big check into chips, he’d hang around and play a few hands of blackjack or something and then start turning in the chips for cash. He knew that as long as he turned in less than three thousand dollars worth at a shot, there was no paperwork. The guy I talked to said he thought Bradley spread money around and had some help with cashing in the chips and did the same thing at a lot of casinos. So now the question is, what happened to all that cash?” Mason said. He was standing now and walking back and forth thinking. “I’m guessing he stashed it somewhere offshore.”

  “So he didn’t lose all of Mrs. Shedd’s money after all,” I said.

  He put up his hand to temper my excitement. “Don’t rush and tell her. The money is probably in an account somewhere, but only the dead guy knows where.” He was right and I felt my initial enthusiasm drain out. The money might be stashed somewhere, but for all intents and purposes it was still gone.

  The kids had long since stopped arguing and had fallen asleep on the couch. We carried them into the bedroom and put them to bed.

  Dinah came home glowing. She pulled me aside and said Commander had accepted the kids no matter who their parents were. He realized her involvement with them showed what a big heart she had. Her smile dimmed when I told her what Mason and I had figured out. “But what’s the point if nobody knows where the money is?” Dinah said and I agreed.

  CHAPTER 27

  TWO DAYS WENT BY AND WE WERE NO CLOSER TO finding Bradley’s stash. It was down to the wire for the Anthony launch, and with the holidays filling the store with customers, frantic was the word of the day. I barely noticed that Mr. Royal hadn’t brought in his mountain bike as promised. Maybe it was as I’d thought: He’d just agreed to end my questions.

  I’d gotten wrapping-desk duty, which it turned out also meant I was the chief question answerer. Most of the questions involved the book launch. Was Anthony going to be there in person? No, because he was a fictional character. Was it true that Mrs. Shedd was the author? I didn’t think so, but who knew for sure? Was it safe to come to the launch since the bad vampires might show up and make trouble? See the answer to question one.

  I was so busy I didn’t notice that Adele wasn’t around until Mrs. Shedd came by the wrapping table looking for her. My boss seemed very agitated and I asked if there was anything I could do.

  “Adele talked me into having a display of Koo Koo books for the launch. She seemed to think that people would be particularly interested in them. I agreed to the display, but said the books needed to be signed in advance. She was supposed to put up the display today. Now I can’t find Adele or the books.”

  Rayaad overheard our conversation and told us Adele had left, saying it was some kind of emergency and she had to drive her boyfriend to the airport. Rayaad remembered that Adele had taken the box of Koo Koo books to be signed with her the night before.

  “Those books weren’t hers to take,” Mrs. Shedd said, seeming even more agitated. “Molly, please see what you can do. I better not walk in the kids’ department and see an empty display.”

  I had never seen Mrs. Shedd so upset about something as small as a box of books. But I was sure it was just a cover for what was really bothering her. I hadn’t told her that I thought Bradley’s ill-gotten money was hidden somewhere. There was no point in giving her hope unless I could deliver the goods.

  I called Adele’s cell phone to read her the riot act. “I can’t bring the books in right now,” Adele said in an irritated tone and made some comment about Mrs. Shedd making a fuss about nothing. She explained William was filling the gas tank and then they were stopping for snacks on the way to the airport. She wasn’t supposed to be back at the bookstore until the evening anyway. When I said Mrs. Shedd was really upset about the books leaving the store and implied this might be the swan song for Adele’s job, she finally got that she was in trouble with our boss.

  “Pink, you have to help me,” she said. “The books are at William’s.” She sounded desperate. “I left the keys to his place in my cubby.” She asked me to get them and actually added a please. I must have really gotten through to her.

  On the way to the parking lot I ran into Ryder making a video of a woman in a Santa hat sitting on the curb. He saw me rushing and wanted to know what was up. When I told him, he asked if he could tag along. Dinah was just turning the corner. The kids were helping Commander at the mail-it center
. When she heard I was on a mission, she said she’d come along, too.

  Ryder had his mother’s Mercedes SUV and offered to drive. We all piled in and headed for William’s house. It was late afternoon as we drove onto his street. In the time since I’d been there, the rest of his neighbors had put up their holiday decorations, though for now the lights weren’t on and the street looked normal.

  We passed the giant Koo Koo on the lawn as we walked to the front door. Adele had told me she thought the books were in the living room. I was going to get the box and go, but Dinah wanted to see what had made Adele think William was the real A. J. Kowalski. The three of us went into his writer’s room and I cautioned everyone to keep their hands to themselves. I pointed out the worktable. The crochet books were still on it.

  Ryder had picked up that William might be the vampire author and was filming the room and adding his commentary. I put my hand in front of his camera and ordered him to stop. No way was he going to post anything to YouTube and ruin the bookstore’s thunder. In my haste I knocked into the table and books and papers fell off. I explained about William’s eye for detail and the three of us went to try to replace all the things on the table just as they had been.

  I set down the crochet book William had borrowed from Adele where I thought it had been. A piece of green paper had fallen down with the book. I recognized it as the sheet I’d seen when I’d been there with Adele. I had only gotten a glimpse of it then and remembered she’d said it was notes she’d made when she was figuring out the pattern of the afghan for me. This time I looked at her scribbles. There were all kinds of notes, and in the middle she’d drawn a rectangle and divided it into rows of boxes. The first couple of squares had Xs that probably were meant to stand for the flowers in them. Then she’d changed to just writing in numbers in a couple of the boxes. She’d just drawn one flower with a question mark in each of the rest of the squares. Across the top, in big letters, she’d written a note about the tassel situation stating that there should be one tassel on each corner or just one tassel on one corner, but not one tassel on one corner and two tassels on the next one and then none. I studied the sheet and showed it to Dinah and said William must have been really hard up for a bookmark to have kept the paper.

 

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