“It looks like you overslept. I finally get to bring you breakfast in bed,” he joked.
I looked at the clock and freaked. “Put it in the kitchen. I’m late.” I got up and started grabbing clothes and heading for the shower. He was sitting at the kitchen table when I came in.
“Julius has had his stink fish,” Sammy said, reaching down to pet the cat. Julius surprised me by leaning into his hand and then jumping on his lap. Sammy seemed thrilled. I flipped the lid off the coffee and started to drink.
“This is the last day with my parents. And then everything can go back to normal,” he said. He sounded a little down, and I thought of what my mother had said.
“Good. I never thought I’d say this, but I miss you making things appear out of my hair, my ears, my hands and whatever else.” I hoped it would cheer him up.
“Like I always say, Case. You’re the only one who gets me.” His eyes brightened, and he reached down toward the cat. “Oh, look what was in your ear, Julius.” A quarter seemed to have come from nowhere. The cat wasn’t impressed.
“Now if you could make a can of stink fish appear,” I said, and we both laughed.
* * *
A few minutes later Sammy and I walked outside together. “I’m meeting my parents this morning and taking them to the Monterey Bay Aquarium. Want to come along?”
“Sorry, I’ve got retreaters to deal with,” I said. “Otherwise, I’d be there.” My tone was clearly sarcastic.
“I wish I could just drop them off.” Sammy seemed forlorn, and I hugged him, hoping it would make it better.
I followed along as he backed his car down the driveway and waved as he pulled onto the street and drove away.
“I hope that wasn’t as cozy as it looked,” Dane said. I hadn’t noticed that he was standing in the street. I could tell by the shorts that he was out for a morning jog.
“I actually have stuff to tell you.”
“How about we talk about it tonight? You could be my date to the Butterfly Ball.”
“I have a date,” I said. His face fell, and I realized he thought I meant I was going with Sammy. “With a bunch of women and one man—my retreaters,” I added quickly. “I hope it’s one of those things where people just get on the dance floor by themselves and move around.”
“Why don’t you just tell me what you know now? Please, please let it be something good.” His tone was light, and I was amazed how he managed to keep it together with his sister still being the prime suspect.
“It’s sort of good, but not that good. I told you before about the Hardcastles owning commercial property and Rosalie trying to muscle her way into the businesses.”
“Yes, and you wouldn’t tell me who they were.”
“Well, now I’m ready to.” I named names.
“I like that you have a list of suspects. Though convincing Lieutenant Borgnine that there are other suspects is another story. We’ll have to come up with a way you can let him think he figured it out himself, and soon. I’m sure he hasn’t arrested Chloe because it’s Butterfly Week. He’s just keeping an eye on her though. She keeps complaining to me that wherever she goes, there he is.” Dane started to run in place. “Speaking of Lieutenant Borgnine, he’ll be at the ball with Mrs. Borgnine.”
“Really! There’s a Mrs. Borgnine? Now I’m really looking forward to going.”
I started to leave, but he didn’t move. “What?” I said, looking at him.
“You gave him a hug,” he teased. “Don’t I get one, too?”
* * *
Lots of people were walking around the Vista Del Mar grounds. Breakfast had just ended, and a crew was working on the float for the parade. There was too much activity to keep it hidden anymore. Kevin St. John drove past me in his golf cart with the Delacorte sisters.
I stepped into the Lodge and noticed Liz Buckley was hanging by the counter. Her manner was a lot different than when I’d met her here at the beginning of the retreat. She’d seemed efficient and businesslike then. She still wore business wear, the same as when I’d seen her before, but she looked like she was just barely keeping it together.
“I thought I might run into you here,” she said. She led me off to a corner and then took something out of her bag.
When I looked down, she pressed a heavy envelope in my hands. She seemed a little nervous. “It’s all there. I didn’t want to give you another check.”
The envelope was thick with bills and a handful of change. I noticed a lot of the bills were singles. My first thought was it looked like it had come from a piggy bank. “You can count it if you like. I wouldn’t blame you for not trusting me.”
“That’s okay,” I said, putting it in my tote bag. “The Danish women seem very happy with the retreat.”
“Good. I hope you won’t hold this against me and we can do more business. It will benefit both of us. I promise it won’t be like this next time.”
I nodded as if I was agreeing, but I wasn’t so sure there would be a next time. She was definitely on my suspect list. She’d certainly had access to Rosalie at the service, and she’d had a motive. The way she seemed now could be the aftermath of killing someone. Maybe she’d felt justified in killing Rosalie, but then afterward her conscience kicked in.
I could just hear Lieutenant Borgnine say, “She could have done it, but that didn’t mean that she did do it.” Without evidence, it was all meaningless.
We parted company, and I went on to join my retreaters. I thought it would be hard to segue from thinking about Liz being Rosalie’s killer to being with a bunch of knitters, but it turned out to be easy.
The room was ready for us as usual. A fire warmed the space, and the window looked out on the flat light of another white sky day. I walked around admiring everybody’s work. It was impressive how much they’d done with the looms. Most were still working with the looms, but a few of them had made enough items and had gone back to the traditional way of knitting with needles. A group of retreaters were gathered together, crocheting butterflies. They were all chatting as they worked, and the atmosphere was warm and friendly.
Crystal nodded her approval when I took my seat and began working with my loom. “It looks like I’ll have to finish it after the retreat,” I said, holding up my work.
“You don’t seem particularly enthused about making a hat,” Crystal said, and I nodded in agreement.
“I noticed that you wear a lot of cowls,” Crystal said.
“They’re all my aunt’s creations,” I said.
Crystal took a bright red cowl out of her bag and showed it to me. “Maybe you’d be happier making one of these.” I loved the color and tried it on at her insistence.
“You’re right. I would rather make a cowl.” I took it off and handed it back to her.
“It’s even easier than the hat,” Crystal said. “I’m sure you won’t have any trouble with it, but you know where to find me if you do.” She showed me some written instructions and a skein of the red yarn.
“My gift,” she said, putting the yarn and instructions in my tote bag. She pulled out the set of round looms in the bag and pointed out the one I should use.
“I’m sorry I’ve missed so much with the group,” I said to both Crystal and Wanda. Crystal looked forgiving, but Wanda didn’t seem so anxious to let me off the hook.
“The retreat seems to have worked out okay, but only because I—well, and Crystal, too—kept it together. Next time, I think I should have more say in the plans.”
Crystal wrinkled her eyebrows in consternation at Wanda’s comment. “How about the three of us should work together,” she said. I could see their point and agreed. Wanda had continued wrapping and then moving loops off the pegs as she stood there talking. She saw me staring at her work.
“It’s a hat for my son. He saw Kory’s and wants one,” Wanda said, continuing to manipulat
e the navy blue yarn.
Crystal had a pleased smile. “Wanda’s son is still in middle school, but Kory is kind of a hero to him—especially being on the football team and now working at Vista Del Mar.” Wanda didn’t say a thing. The two workshop leaders left me and made the rounds of the room to see if anyone needed help.
Lucinda was sitting next to me, working on a round loom as well. The way she was using the pick to pull at the looms made it obvious she was upset.
“What gives?” I asked, almost in a whisper. She stabbed at a tight loop and then dragged it up the peg.
“It’s the Butterfly Ball.” Her expression sagged. “I don’t know how I’m going to deal with Tag being there. I just don’t want to see him right now.”
“About that,” I said, keeping my voice low. “He has something to tell you. I know you’re upset with him, but when you know all the facts, I’m sure you’ll feel differently.”
She stopped working and looked at me. “Why don’t you just tell me?”
“He said the same thing. I don’t want to go into detail here; just trust me. Everything is okay with him.”
The conversation at the table had turned to the Butterfly Ball.
“It’s the last big event for the princesses,” Crystal said. “The Butterfly Queen committee gets together after the ball and votes. They don’t notify the winner until just before she’s getting on the float. I’m so excited for Marcy,” she added. “My daughter has never done anything like this before. I was shocked when a girl who wouldn’t run for student council suddenly announced she wanted to be part of the Princess Court. It would reinforce she did the right thing if she ended up being chosen queen.”
“My sister really wants it, too,” Wanda said. “She’s older than most of the others, but she thinks her maturity will help.” Wanda stood up and did her teapot pose. “But I heard Larry Benson’s daughter is trying really hard to impress the committee.” She glanced around at the group. “The family is new to Cadbury. He’s the pharmacist and owner of Cadbury Drugs & Sundries.”
I hadn’t thought about Larry Benson having a family, and I certainly hadn’t realized his daughter was one of the princesses.
“If I was on the committee, I’d have second thoughts about choosing a queen who hadn’t even lived here for a year,” Wanda said.
“Don’t worry, the committee is taking everything into consideration.” Madeleine Delacorte had come into the room and overheard. “I am so sorry to have missed this retreat, but duty calls.” No denim for Madeleine today, but she was still shunning the old way she had dressed and had on a pair of purple slacks with a matching top. She walked around between the tables, admiring the women’s work.
“How did Rosalie feel about Larry Benson’s daughter being a princess?” I asked.
Madeleine shrugged. “She was only there for the first interview. But knowing Rosalie, she would have been very negative, since they were newcomers.”
Madeleine returned to the front of the room. “I just stopped by to make sure you were all coming tonight. The Butterfly Ball is always an exciting event.”
The women all nodded in enthusiastic agreement. Scott leaned back in his chair, and I had the feeling he hadn’t decided. Madeleine waved and said she’d be looking for them and then left, just as Kory came into the room.
His dark curls were hidden under the hat his mother had made for him. The whole group recognized it, and he walked around the tables, showing it off again.
“No more garbage detail,” he said. “I’m working in the dining hall now, busing tables.” He laughed. “Maybe it’s not such a step up from garbage detail.”
When he mentioned the dining hall, it made me think of the chili dinner and what my mother had said. While the group broke for tea and coffee, I called Kory to the side. I made a little small talk before I got to what I really wanted to discuss.
“You said you sat at dinner with the two players who got sick, right?” It took a moment for my question to register, then he nodded.
“I was curious. How did they arrange the seating?”
“You mean like were there place cards or something?” he asked. I nodded and he continued. “No, we just sat wherever we wanted to. The team all sat together at one of the long tables, and the parents and other people were at a different one.”
“Did you go up and help yourself?” I asked.
“No, it was a big deal that we were served. They came around with a tray full of bowls.” His eyes lit up. “I know why you’re asking. It’s because of your muffins.” He seemed to be getting ready to go. “It’s okay. You must have noticed that they’re really moving again.” It seemed an odd comment, and I was going to ask about it, but before I could, he was out the door.
24
I made it a point to sit down and have lunch with the group and was just settling into the idea of spending the rest of the day with them when I saw Sammy come into the dining hall. He stopped in the entrance and surveyed the room. I figured he was looking for me and waved. As he crossed toward my table, I heard several of the staff members ask if he was there to do a show. Sammy seemed pleased and nervous at the same time.
“Case, my mother’s all upset,” he said when he reached me. “My father disappeared before our trip to the aquarium. My mother is a wreck, insisting we have to find him. She’s saying we have to do an intervention and the more people there, the better chance he’ll listen. She said since you’re almost a family member that you should come along.” His eyes were apologetic. “I tried to talk her out of it. I hate to ask you for another favor . . .”
Lucinda overheard. “Go on,” she urged. “By now everybody knows what to do. I hope you’ll be back in time for the Butterfly Ball.”
“You can bet on that. Lieutenant Borgnine is going to be there with his wife. I can’t wait to see what she looks like.” I took a moment to tell the group I would catch up with them later, then I headed out.
Sammy was already almost to his BMW when I caught up with him. I saw that Estelle was in the passenger seat, so I got into the back. Sammy pulled away as soon as I shut the door, and I was still putting on my seat belt as we turned out of the Vista Del Mar driveway.
“Do you have any idea where he went?” I asked. I couldn’t believe they were planning to just drive the streets looking for him.
“Yes, we do,” Estelle said. “He slipped out this morning without saying anything, as if I wouldn’t notice.”
“So then he isn’t actually lost,” I said, trying to make sense of what was going on.
“No, Bernard knows exactly where he is, but we don’t know where he is.”
Sammy didn’t go through the heart of Cadbury but instead headed for the highway that led to Monterey and beyond.
“I heard you say something to Bernard about his having a problem with an activity. Does that have anything to do with where he went?” I asked.
“Does it have anything to do with it? How about it has everything to do with it!” Estelle was leaning forward, as if it would make the car go faster. “When we find him, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.”
“Okay, but could you give me a hint about what?”
“Sammy, tell her,” Estelle said. “It just makes me too angry.”
Sammy caught my eye in the rearview mirror and rolled his. “We’re going to check out the local card rooms. My father likes to play poker.”
“Likes to play,” his mother said, indignant. “He’s obsessed. This is the third time he’s slipped away this week. The man has a problem.”
Sammy was biting his lip to keep from smiling. I’m pretty sure he was thinking that the one with the problem was her.
The highway ran along the water of Monterey Bay, and the waves were small as they lapped up on the sand. Not being a card player myself, I had no idea that card rooms even existed.
Sammy was consultin
g a map on the car’s small screen. He pulled off the highway, and we began driving through the streets of Bayside. He followed the directions, and we entered the parking lot of a strip mall that had an Old West look to it. Next to a lounge, there was a sign that said POKER CASINO, with some dancing spades and diamonds around it.
Sammy pulled into an empty spot. Estelle was out of the car before Sammy cut the motor, and she marched through the door of the casino. Sammy caught up with her, and I took up the rear. I was expecting some kind of razzle dazzle in the decorations, but it was just a big wood-paneled room with a bunch of round card tables. It must have been mostly a nighttime activity, because there were only three tables in use. I was amazed how no one even looked up as the three of us walked around the players, searching for Sammy’s father. Not that it would be easy to recognize him. All the players had on baseball caps, or hoodies, or hoodies and baseball caps. A few were wearing sunglasses. Not one of them broke their expression, even with Estelle practically putting her face in front of theirs.
“He’s not here,” she announced, and marched toward the door.
After we all piled back into the car, Sammy punched in something on the GPS and we were off again. “How many of these are there?” I asked, looking at my watch. “I do have a retreat going on, and tonight is the big event of the week.”
Estelle looked around the front seat. “This is much more important than a dance. Family comes first, and it’s your duty as an almost-Glickner to help with Bernard.”
I looked up at the rearview mirror and saw that Sammy was sending me an “I’m sorry” look. I felt terrible. I should have been with my retreaters or trying to hunt down Rosalie’s killer instead of going on a wild-goose chase. Time was going by quickly. Butterfly Week was almost over, then Lieutenant Borgnine would lower the boom on Chloe unless I did something fast.
I didn’t even know where we were by now, beyond that we were in one of the small communities that hugged the bay. We passed one similar area of fast-food places and convenience stores after another, and for the first time, I realized why the town council was so adamant about keeping chains and big-box stores out of Cadbury. As we drove on I felt like we were in a personality-less Anywhere, Small Town, USA. The second card room was located in an old car dealership. I had a feeling the colorful banners that flapped along the outside of the parking lot were left over from its previous tenant.
Gone with the Wool Page 21
