Gone with the Wool

by Betty Hechtman

  I still kept my distance until he stuck his head out the window. Oops. I apologized profusely, and when he offered me a ride again, I explained I preferred to make the deliveries on foot. In reality, I just didn’t want to be a captive audience. It didn’t work.

  “You shouldn’t be out here alone.” He pulled the car to the curb and shut it off. “I’ll just walk with you,” he said, getting out of the rental car.

  It was useless to argue. He wanted to take both of the muffin carriers, but I insisted we each carry one. He had the same lumbering sort of build as Sammy, but none of the teddy bear quality. I noticed he was alone and asked where he was coming from.

  “You know we just want the best for you and Sammy,” he said, clearly ignoring my question. “I’m sure you want the best for him, too. There’s lots going on in urology in Chicago. The big thing now is doctors doing seminars. Sammy would be great.”

  We crossed the street, and I went up to my first stop. I pulled out one of the covered trays and slipped it in a delivery slot. The empty one from the day before had been left outside. Sammy’s father kept talking. “At least he seems to have given up all that nonsense about magic. I’ve been hearing for years that it was all my fault, because I gave him a magic set for his eleventh birthday. He usually didn’t like anything I picked out. Who would have guessed the magic set would be the one thing he loved?”

  This was an awkward moment. Personally, I thought Sammy should just tell his parents what he was doing and let it go. I was almost going to say it for him, but I reconsidered. It was overstepping. “Sammy’s a grown man now, so it’s up to him to decide what he wants his life to be,” I said. “He has to decide for himself what he wants and doesn’t want.”

  “I shouldn’t be surprised that you have that kind of attitude. How many careers have you gone through?” He looked over at me carrying the plastic containers. “And now you’re wandering around this town in the middle of the night. A town so small and ridiculous they make bets on when butterflies are going to arrive. What kind of living is that?”

  Stay calm, I told myself. Don’t engage. I didn’t need his approval. He wasn’t really almost my father-in-law.

  “I don’t agree with my wife,” he continued. “She thinks you’re just playing with him and that you’re going to break his heart.” We’d gotten to Maggie’s, which was all closed up for the night. I opened the small door she had for deliveries and pulled out the empty container she’d left for me and then slid in the full one. “You’re not going to break his heart, right?”

  “Of course not. I love Sammy.” The words were out of my mouth before I knew what I was saying. Did I mean that? Well, there were different kinds of love. I was thinking about that when Sammy’s father said something that made me stop in my tracks.

  “What are you now, around thirty-five? And where is your life? You’re not a wife, or a mother, and what exactly do you call your career?” He sounded just like my mother. Apparently, he wasn’t waiting for an answer and just continued on. “It’s time for you and Sammy to step up the plate and quit living like a couple of college students.”

  I was relieved when we finished the deliveries. He drove me back to the Blue Door, where my car was parked. I was afraid he was going to insist on following me home, but I saw that he’d turned his car around and was headed back to the Butterfly Inn. I never did find out where he had been coming from.

  I drove home and pulled into my driveway. I saw Sammy looking out at me through the open shutters. I waved and held up the container of muffins and pointed across the street in a pantomime that I was going to deliver the muffins. I didn’t want to mention what I was going to do after or who I had just talked to.

  There was nothing to mask the sound of the ocean, and I could hear the waves as I crossed the street. I always liked walking on the grounds late at night like this. Most everyone was asleep, and it felt like my own private little world.

  The clerk gave me a sleepy yawn as I walked across the Lodge. The lights were on, and a fire was going in the big fireplace, but there wasn’t another soul in the big room. The door to the gift shop was shut, with a big CLOSED sign hanging from it. The café was closed as well, and I left the container of muffins by the door. I’d pick up the empty the next day.

  If the clerk noticed that I exited by the other door, the one that went out onto the deck and faced the sand dunes that bordered the property, he didn’t say anything. This side of the Lodge was even more mysterious than the other. The moon provided some light, and I could just make out the grass circle with its sprinkling of trees, and beyond that, the entrance to the boardwalk. I passed the small chapel, which was still shrouded from view, and went on to the beginning of the boardwalk. The white sand around it reflected back the moonlight, and I could see no one was there.

  Had I been stood up? I was about to give up and go home when Dane stepped out of the shadows.

  “Oh,” I squealed, startled by his sudden appearance. I had kept a few muffins aside, and after I recovered, I held them out for him. “I hope you’re not afraid to eat them.”

  “Of course I’m not.” To prove the point, he took one out of the little shopping bag and took a bite of it. “Satisfied?” he asked, taking my hand. “Let’s get situated before we get down to business.”

  I saw his point. It was so quiet, it seemed wrong to break it by talking as we walked. We started down the boardwalk. Tall bushes grew out of the white sand, and a deer stepped from behind one and then stopped to look at us before soundlessly disappearing.

  We reached the end of the Vista Del Mar property and crossed the winding street. The air coming off the water had a chill dampness but felt fresh and clean.

  The beach ahead was empty, but as I looked back toward the posh resorts along 17-Mile Drive, their lights shined in the darkness. We were about to walk onto the sand when Dane stopped.

  “I have a better idea,” he said. I followed his lead, and we walked along the deserted street as it rose up a gentle slope. Finally, we reached the destination he had in mind.

  I’d been there before. A bench sat on a small cliff above the waves as they lapped on some rocks. Ahead there was only dark water.

  “This is the very tip of the land,” Dane said as we both sat down. Instinctively, we turned to the right and saw the beginning of Monterey Bay.

  “At last,” Dane said. He pulled a small thermos out of his jacket pocket. “Hot cider,” he said, opening the lid. It smelled of apples and cinnamon. “There’s only one cup, though, so we’ll have to share.” He poured some of the steaming liquid into the top and handed it to me. “Ladies first.”

  I tasted it, and as I expected, it was great. “This is all very nice, but I wanted to talk about the case.”

  “Sorry, I got lost in the romance of the moment. This is kind of perfect.” I didn’t say anything, but I had to agree.

  “Romance over and out,” he said, giving a mock salute. “Of course, you’re right. We should be talking about the case. Have you been able to come up with anything, like hopefully some other suspects?”

  “There is one. Me. Lieutenant Borgnine seems to think I might have taken offense at Rosalie’s comments about the muffins, because they were going to ruin my business.”

  Dane put his arm around me. “He doesn’t really believe that, does he?”

  I let the cool air refresh my senses. “Well, one thing is right: her comment has definitely put a dent in my business. The sales of all my baked goods are down.”

  Dane tried to sound encouraging. “I’m sure it’s just temporary.”

  “That’s what Maggie said, but what if it isn’t? Another career bites the dust.” I told him about running into Sammy’s father. “Maybe he’s right.”

  “About what?”

  “That I’m wasting my time here.”

  “I suppose he was suggesting that you and Sammy get married a
nd move back to Chicago,” Dane said, sounding unhappy.

  “Yes, but then he doesn’t know that Sammy and I aren’t really together.” I let out a sigh. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. There’s another possible suspect in Rosalie’s murder. My old boss brought it up. Frank said I ought to try to get Lieutenant Borgnine to consider Hank Hardcastle.”

  “I’m sure Borgnine talked to Hank. But he could have dismissed him as a suspect because he’s so sure Chloe did it.” Dane punched his fist in frustration. “Just because she has blue hair, or whatever color it is this week, it doesn’t make her a killer.”

  “I was thinking that if I talked to Hank Hardcastle I might be able to find something out. But I don’t think I’ve ever met him.”

  “Hank works nights, so your paths might not have crossed. The more I think about it, it sounds like a good idea for you to talk to him,” Dane said.

  “I heard that before, about him working at night.” I knew the streets of Cadbury were practically rolled up at night, so there weren’t a lot of late-night opportunities for work. “What does he do?”

  Dane pointed out into the bay. In the distance I saw a tiny green light and something brighter near it. “That could be him.”

  I was totally confused. “Doing what?”

  “Fishing for calamari.” Dane went to refill my cup with the cider.

  “Calamari?” I repeated. Dane misunderstood and thought I wanted to know how they fished at night, and he went into describing how they caught the squid.

  But I wasn’t interested that they went out in two boats, with one shining a bright light into the water to attract the animals and the other boat actually catching them. Apparently they were like moths that way—drawn to the light. I just wanted to get back to Hank.

  “What does he look like?” I saw Dane shrug his shoulders in the darkness. “Like just any regular guy. Five-ten, brown eyes and hair and no discerning features that I know of.”

  I told him about the man I’d seen Tag talking to outside the restaurant. Dane nodded.

  “Sure, that could have been him.”

  “But Tag insists that it had nothing to do with getting squid for the restaurant.”

  “What did it have to do with, then?” Dane asked.

  “He wouldn’t say,” I answered. Dane seemed more excited than he’d been before.

  “Good work. All that skulking around sounds like someone who is guilty of something.” He turned to me. “I can’t talk to him since I’m barred from the case. But you could,” he said. “Once we have something, we’ll find a way to get it to Lieutenant Borgnine.”

  I looked out at the green light bobbing in the water. “What am I supposed to do, swim out there?”

  “Very funny. We’ll figure out a way for you to meet him.” Dane moved closer and nuzzled my neck. “Now that that’s done, let’s get on to the date part.”

  15

  Wednesday morning, the sky was a flat white. Sometimes it was a very bright white, but this bordered on gloomy. I didn’t lounge in bed, and Julius seemed surprised when I abruptly threw back the covers, knocking him out of the spot where he’d nestled. I smiled thinking of the date part of Dane’s and my evening. It was really sweet the way we’d just huddled together at the end of the earth. He’d said he was sure Lieutenant Borgnine didn’t really consider me a suspect and that he was just trying to harass me. I hoped it was true.

  I was on my way out the door when Sammy showed up with breakfast for both of us. He seemed disappointed that I wasn’t staying. All the stuff his father had said rumbled through my mind, but I kept it to myself.

  “I’ll give Julius his stink fish,” Sammy said, turning to the cat, who was parading in front of the refrigerator. Sammy knew the way to Julius’s heart and was trying to win him over. Julius started to ignore him but quickly figured out who was the source of the stink fish and went over to do figure eights around Sammy’s ankles.

  I had breakfast with the group. My eating had been pretty spotty, so I decided the best thing to do was to make the most of the meal. As I went through the cafeteria line, I took a waffle, eggs and fruit. Thinking of the other night, I made a point of looking in the kitchen as I went down the line. As the server handed me my plate of food, I saw a knife block with an empty slot. I remembered that the knife used to stab Rosalie was from the Vista Del Mar kitchen and had probably been on a cheese tray. But what if it hadn’t? How easy would it be for someone to slip in and take a knife?

  The food server was busy looking at the people coming through for their food. The rest of the staff was occupied with preparing more. Curious, I set down my plate on the metal counter and walked into the kitchen, waiting to see if anyone noticed me. No one stopped me as I went toward the knife block. I had my hand up, ready to see how easy it was to take one, when a voice snapped me to attention.

  “Ms. Feldstein. What are you doing in there? Who are you planning to stab this time?” Kevin St. John said. I groaned. Was there a chance that he wasn’t going to mention this to Lieutenant Borgnine?

  I lost my appetite after that and went back to the table without even picking up my food. Lucinda gave me a worried look. I had already decided not to tell her that I thought Tag’s visitor was Hank Hardcastle until I knew what was going on.

  After breakfast, Lucinda and most of the retreaters joined a power walk around the grounds. I went ahead to the meeting room, in anticipation of the workshop. I was surprised to see the number of finished hats sitting on the tables. I congratulated myself on the choice of loom knitting for this retreat. I sat down and picked up my round loom and the tool used to move the loops of yarn. I didn’t find working with the loom as meditative as using needles, but it was still relaxing. I wrapped all the pegs and went back and began to slip the bottom loop over the top of each peg. I was quickly realizing that the secret was wrapping the pegs not so tightly that the loops were hard to manipulate, but not so loosely that the loops slipped off the pegs.

  I was still working when Wanda, Crystal and the retreaters all came in and gathered around the tables. Lucinda gave me a thumbs-up when she saw what I was doing. Everyone picked up their work, and a bunch of conversations started. I was glad to see that everyone seemed happy working with the looms. I gave myself another pat on my back for making a good choice.

  I had taken a seat near the window and, out of the corner of my eye, saw someone lurking on the other side. When I turned, Dane motioned for me to come outside. I did what I could to not disturb things, but my loom went clattering to the floor, and everyone turned to look at me.

  I put my hand up in an apologetic gesture and said I’d be right back. Dane had on his off-duty uniform of a hoodie over jeans. He gestured for me to step away from the building to an empty spot.

  He took my hand and looked into my eyes with a grin. “Last night and then now. This is a record.” He looked around. “And there’s no audience saying what a cute couple we are or a tourist choking on a piece of chicken to ruin our moment,” he teased.

  “Is that what this is about? What, next you suggest we find a doorway and make out?” I said, smiling. I was still keeping him at arm’s length, but it was a real challenge. The night before, during the date portion of our meeting, there’d been a lot of electricity going on between us as we sat there on the bench. Eventually, it had erupted into a make-out session that almost boiled over into something more.

  “Sounds like a good idea to me,” he said with a wiggle of his eyebrows. Then he got serious. “I know how you can run into Hank Hardcastle. You’re taking your group to the natural history museum tomorrow for the play, right?” I nodded. “Hank is going to be there for the ceremony about something they donated to the museum.”

  “You mean the pavilion that isn’t really even a room? More like a stuffed bear,” I said.

  “Oh,” he said with a smile. “Well, I just wanted to give you a heads-up on a
chance to ‘run into him.’ Maybe you can find a way to start up a conversation. Only don’t try any of that pseudo-flirting of yours. It would be inappropriate, since his wife just died, and he might think you have some kind of tic.”

  Flirting was definitely not my thing. In the past, Frank had suggested I use it to get information from Dane. It turned out to be more comic relief than seductive moment.

  I made a playful swat at Dane, and he added, “And I might get jealous.”

  When I went back inside, Wanda and Crystal had taken the long looms and were demonstrating how to make a double knit scarf. I sat at the table, trying to absorb what they were saying while continuing with my hat.

  The plan for Wednesday was like a sea day on a cruise. No butterfly outings, just the workshops and the evening activities at Vista Del Mar. I think everyone was glad to be staying on the grounds after the busy day before. By the afternoon workshop, they had all started working on a scarf and I was a little further on my hat. When the workshop broke up, Sammy and his parents were waiting outside the meeting room.

  “Case, I wanted my folks to see you in action.” He pointed to the trail of retreaters walking away. “She’s in charge of all this,” he said. They walked into the room and looked at the looms lying on the table, as I explained how this retreat was different from the others I’d put on. Not that they seemed very interested.

  “We came here to spend time with both of you,” Estelle said. “But you always seem to be rushing off. Can’t we get dinner together? At that place you bake for?”

  I was going to beg off, but I saw the pleading look in Sammy’s eyes. “I guess my group will be all right without me,” I said. But I quickly added I didn’t want to eat at the Blue Door.

  “What about here?” Bernard said, looking over the grounds. “I understand that meals come with the accommodations, but you can buy a ticket for one meal.”

  Sammy nixed that plan. He didn’t give a reason, but I knew that since he actually had a job doing table magic in the dining hall on the weekends, he was afraid someone might bring it up.