One for the Hooks

by Betty Hechtman

  I knew she meant well, but I imagined Peter’s reaction to my homemade items. I knew already that Peter and Gabby would want everything to come from some trendy store.

  He got it from his father’s side. Charlie had had his own public relations firm that dealt almost exclusively with entertainment business clients. His whole business had been about keeping up an image for his clients, and I guess Peter had paid close attention. Too close.

  I thanked Rhoda and put the folder in my tote bag.

  CeeCee was the next to arrive. She took the seat at the end of the table, as the leader of our group. She had just come from a rehearsal and seemed concerned. “In all my years in the business, this is the first time I’m doing live theater,” she said. “I know it’s good to keep growing and trying new things, but what if I flop?”

  She seemed genuinely worried rather than just fishing for compliments.

  “Don’t worry, the theater only holds fifty people,” Rhoda said. “We’ll all sit in front.”

  CeeCee thanked her but still seemed worried. “But, dear, what about the people sitting behind you?”

  Sheila offered everyone a tense greeting as she pulled out a chair. I knew the source wasn’t the anxiety which plagued her. This time it was something real. Sheila had created a style of crochet and knitting (Adele went nuts whenever Sheila brought in a knitting project and had been known to mutter “traitor” under her breath). She mixed mohair-like yarns in shades of blue, lavender, and green, which she turned into scarves, shawls, and small blankets. The mixture of colors was reminiscent of an Impressionist painting. She’d been selling them at Luxe for a while but now was getting orders as well and was having trouble keeping up. “I used to be able to get some work done at the store, but since the owner started taking in vintage pieces along with the new stuff, we’ve had more business.” She shrugged. “But I guess that’s a good thing.”

  “I can help you out. It’s something to do when I wake up in the middle of the night,” Rhoda said. “Just give me the yarn and the pattern.”

  Sheila let out a big sigh of relief. “Thank you,” she said, going around the table to give the former New Yorker a hug.

  Adele came in just as Sheila was hugging Rhoda. “What’s going on? What did I miss?” Adele barely took a breath before she continued. She looked at CeeCee. “I’m sure you understand how hard it is being a celebrity. Everybody wants more of The Adele,” she said.

  “The Adele?” CeeCee said, trying to restrain a chuckle.

  “I had to do something to differentiate me from that singer Adele,” she said indignantly.

  As Adele went on and on about how her followers wanted more and more vlog posts, Dinah and I exchanged glances. We both ended up shrugging. There was no way I was going to ask “The Adele” for anything that might even slightly make me seem lesser than. I’d just have to figure out another way to get that woman’s name.

  “There’s something I need to run past you all,” I said as soon as Adele took a breath. Without saying that Elise had dropped the ball, I brought up making the kits with the yarn. “I’ll get everything together, and we can make up an assembly line,” I said.

  “Of course, dear,” CeeCee said. “With all the bookstore has done for us, giving us a place to hang out, I’m sure we’d all be glad to give something back.” I noticed that she looked at Elise and had clearly figured out what had happened. “Why don’t you explain what you have in mind to all of us?”

  “We want to do the event next Saturday to give the kits a push, and in addition to some or all of you being crochet teachers, I was hoping you’d be willing to make some of the scarves. We need them for a photo to put on the insert with the kits and as samples for the event. I know it’s short notice, but they work up quickly.”

  I passed around the pattern for them to look over and said I’d print some up.

  In the midst of all this, I saw Dinah quietly slip away from the table with a wink. I deliberately looked away from her so no one would follow my gaze. No one noticed when Dinah returned a few minutes later either. Success was written in her smile, and she slipped something in a folder and put it in the chair behind me.

  I pointed to the covered bins of yarn and told them anyone who wanted to help could pick three skeins. As everyone got up from the table, I used it as an opportunity to take the file from behind me. I opened it to reveal Adele’s clipboard. She had it organized weirdly, and I had to keep going back and forth to put names together with addresses.

  “Stop,” Adele said in a loud voice. I jumped and the folder flew out of my arms as I frantically tried to come up with some excuse why I had it. If I thought asking her for the name would cause a problem, it was nothing compared to having taken her sacred clipboard.

  Sure that I’d been caught, I began to apologize, but before I could get out the words, Adele had added to her command. She wasn’t even talking to me. “Rewind everything, please,” she commanded. “Let me get this for my vlog.” She had her phone out and started to film. “Here we are at Shedd & Royal as the Tarzana Hookers start on my plan of how to use orphan yarn.”

  I objected to her saying it was her plan, but I liked the term “orphan yarn.” I went back to the clipboard and finally matched up a name to the only address on Starlight Court: Bitsy Jonquet.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I was packing up the Serendipity scarf I’d started during the Hooker gathering, getting ready to leave the bookstore, when Barry called. “Do you have a gift for me?” he asked. It took a moment for me to understand what he was asking. Technically, I had something on two of the neighbors and therefore could have given Barry an update, but I wanted to do a little more checking things out before I passed anything on to him.

  “Nothing for now,” I said, “but I’m working on something.”

  “Oh,” he said. Was there a hint of disappointment in his voice? If there was, it quickly changed to disapproval. “What do you mean ‘working on’?” he demanded. “Our agreement was you’re the ears and I’m the brain.”

  “Really? Did you just say you’re the brain?” As I said it, I heard background noise from his side. There was the sound of a voice and a car door shutting. His tone abruptly changed.

  “Did I say that? A mistake, honey. I’m not in a good place to talk,” he said. He was probably with his new partner.

  “I get it. You can’t talk, honey,” I said with a laugh.

  It was lucky I got a little laugh in because I went home to a nightmare. I knew something was up when I saw a big Mercedes sedan and a gold Porsche parked in front of my house as I pulled into my usual spot in the driveway. As I walked across the yard and looked toward my kitchen door, there were no cats or dogs anxiously awaiting my arrival, which meant that Peter had locked them in my room. I felt my anger rising, and I marched toward the kitchen door, ready to do battle.

  I smelled cooking food as soon as I opened the door. Three people in cook’s uniforms were moving around my kitchen. They turned and stared at me as if I was an invader. “I live here,” I said. “Who are you?” I looked through the cutaway to the dining room and saw the table had been set, complete with cloth napkins.

  A man who seemed to be in charge started to say something, but Peter rushed in and shushed me.

  “It’s a dinner party,” he said. “These guys are loaded, and they could give me backing,” he said. Gabby came in behind him. We’d had little interaction since they’d moved in. I think she was trying to will me invisible.

  “Go on back in there,” she said to my son. “I’ll handle this.”

  I had to keep my mouth from dropping open. She was going to handle me in my own kitchen? “We want to get out of here as much as you want us to leave,” she said as soon as Peter went back to his guests. I’m sure she’d grown up on the west side of Los Angeles or in The Palisades, as people called Pacific Palisades. Her voice had that slightly superior lilt I’d noticed in people from those areas. She was doing her best to carry on as if she weren’t
pregnant, but at the same time was dressed in a tight knit dress that accentuated her shape. Whatever happened to the loose jumpers and baggy tops that had been popular in my day?

  “Peter is doing everything he can,” she said. “Now, please just be helpful and …” she looked around. “Can’t you go in the other door and go to your room?”

  This time my mouth did fall open. Really? My not-even-daughter-in-law-yet and she was ordering me out of the way!

  * * *

  I could have made a scene. It was my house, and while the baby she was caring was family, technically she herself wasn’t. I could have marched into the living room and introduced myself to my son’s company and thoroughly embarrassed him. They’d taken over, brought in caterers, and had not even had the courtesy to tell me. But I didn’t. I didn’t want to ruin anything that would help him put his life back together, and while we didn’t see eye to eye, he was my son and I would always support him. I peeked into the living room to see what his company looked like and was surprised to Merry Riley and Mitch Byrd having wine and appetizers with several Hollywood types. It would have been a lose–lose for both of us.

  So, I went around to the den door and slipped into the master suite. I must have known something like this was going to happen and had left supplies for the animals. I was even able to give the dogs a little outside time in the enclosed patio off my bedroom, known as the spot where I’d once gotten trapped. The wall around it had no gate, and that time the doorknob had fallen off the door. This time I made absolutely sure I could get back in and took the pets out into the small garden. They’d never been out there before, and it was funny to see how confused they looked. Then I brought them all back in, grabbed my crochet work, and went to Dinah’s unannounced.

  “He what?” Dinah said as I explained my sudden visit. “Come in, come in,” she said. Commander was sitting on the couch, watching the news. He looked up and gave me a wave. They were still having some adjustment to getting married, but he’d always been okay with our friendship. I felt a little uncomfortable now that I knew that he knew about our Sherlock Holmes game. I was afraid it made us sound too much like Nancy Drew wannabes.

  “Caterers and everything,” she said as she led the way to her She Cave. “What were they making?” she said before stopping herself. “What’s the difference—they booted you out of your own kitchen.” Dinah slid the glass door closed behind us. The room was an add-on to the two-bedroom house.

  Before Commander had moved in, we’d lounged on Dinah’s chartreuse couch in the living room, and this extra room had been mostly unused. Commander was an early to bed, early to rise sort of guy, but if Dinah went to bed before midnight, it meant she was sick. That’s what had prompted her to turn the added room into her den.

  “What can I get for you?” she asked. “Commander made dinner, and he makes the exact amount for the two of us, so no leftovers.” I told her not to worry, that it was a business dinner and likely to be over early.

  “At least I can give you cookies and tea.” She had an electric kettle and tea fixings in the room, and she always kept a tin of butter cookies. She brought mugs of tea and the cookies to a small table in front of the chartreuse couch. Commander had since picked out a more sedate one for the living room.

  “You did get the name you were looking for off The Adele’s clipboard, right?” Dinah asked with a giggle. “Just when you think Adele can’t top herself, she does.”

  “I got the name. But it didn’t seem enough to give to Barry,” I said.

  “Why don’t we see what we can do with what you know?” Dinah said.

  “You mean the Sherlock Holmes game?” I asked, and she nodded. “You know Commander knows about it?”

  “So what. Let’s do it.”

  “Let’s start with what we know.” I looked at my friend expectantly.

  “We know that Miami seems determined to turn the place into a cash cow, and the neighbors aren’t happy about it. They put up signs; knocked over the house sign; and, last but not least, dropped a stink bomb in the backyard.”

  “Which would be viewed differently if someone hadn’t died because of it.”

  “And she died because?” Dinah said.

  “I guess I assumed that bag hanging from the drone hit her in the head and knocked her out before the stuff fell on top of her. Maybe it suffocated her.”

  “Did Barry tell you that?”

  “No,” I said. “We didn’t talk about it.”

  “I wonder why,” she said.

  “Probably because he’s so sure that it was supposed to be an annoyance to Miami.”

  “Sometimes it helps to look at things from a different perspective,” Dinah said.

  “You mean think about the victim,” I said, nodding in agreement. “We’ve been assuming that it was an accident. That Sloan was in the wrong place at the wrong time. But drones have cameras, so whoever was operating it had to have seen she was there. They could have been in a hurry to dump the stuff and it was just bad timing.” I stopped to think. “Or maybe she was the target.”

  We both heard some noise coming from the living room, and a moment later, Commander slid open the glass door and stuck his head in. “Molly, you have some company.”

  I had company? Who could have tracked me down? I went to the sliding glass door expectantly.

  Commander Blaine stepped back and someone took his place.

  “Mason,” I said. It was probably more of a shriek. It took a moment for it to register, and then I rushed to him and gave him a big hug. He was dressed in the wardrobe style of his current endeavor—jeans and a T-shirt with a sport coat. The look was more casual, but the pants and jacket had a custom fit.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked. The surprise hadn’t worn off, and I’m afraid it sounded almost accusatory.

  Mason laughed. “Looking for you,” he teased. “Everything got messed up. My clients are in a panic because they heard they might be interviewed by the FBI, and they need major hand-holding. I had to drop everything and grab the first flight here. I’m going to be tied up with them all day Sunday, but I wanted to see you tonight.” We were still standing in the doorway. Mason looked around the girly room. “Can I come in, or is it ladies only?”

  “Of course you can,” Dinah said, waving him in.

  “You’re a hard person to find,” he said. “I called your cell, your landline, and there was no answer at either, so I went over to your place. Peter answered the door.”

  “And I’m sure he invited you in,” I said. Mason was just the sort of person he’d want to impress his guests with. Everybody knew he was the attorney to the stars.

  “He did, and I even got points from all of them about my pro bono work. I stayed for a drink just to find out what he was up to.” He gave me a kindly smile. “I figured he didn’t tell you much.”

  I laughed. “Are you kidding? All he tells me is to stay out of the way, and he dangles that he’s trying to do something so they can move out.”

  He looked at the tea and cookies. “I hope that means you haven’t had dinner.”

  “She hasn’t, and she deserves something delicious,” Dinah said. She started clearing away the tea and cookies as Mason kept his arm around me and escorted me to the door.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I thought we could go someplace close and easy. I’d love to drive to the beach, but I don’t think I have it in me.” We’d gotten into his Mercedes SUV, and the interior was dimly lit by the streetlights. I could see the tiredness in his face.

  “It’s the company that matters, not the restaurant,” I said.

  He reached over and squeezed my hand. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  He was usually the one to pick a place, but this time, I did. We parked at the Village, an outdoor shopping and dining destination in Woodland Hills, and went to a casual dining spot. We sat outside on their patio, next to a pond with fish and lily pads. At first, Mason and I were both too hungry to talk. As soon as the counter person b
rought out the food, we dove in. As usual we shared—this time it was quiche, chopped salad, and warm pita bread, glistening with melted butter. There were pieces of chocolate cake and cheesecake for dessert.

  “I would have liked to have stayed there this weekend, but when the Bagattis call, I have to go,” he said when he’d gotten the edge off his hunger. He took another sliver of the quiche. “I’ve been living on pizza and fried chicken. It’s nice to have some vegetables.”

  “You lived up to Dinah’s command and did take me someplace delicious,” I said.

  “It was your suggestion. You should get the credit.” The food had revived him, and he reached across the table and touched my hand. “If something like that happens again with Peter, you can always go to my place,” he said.

  “Thanks, but I had to take care of my menagerie. Peter assured me they’d only been locked in my room for a short time, but who knows, really.” I took another piece of the bread and broke it in pieces. “You started to tell me what Peter was up to.”

  “You’ll be pleased to know that he really is trying to put something together. I don’t think he wants to stay there anymore than you want him to. After what happened with that production he was working on, he’s looking in a different direction. A group of people are interested in launching a channel with feel-good programming, and Peter wants to provide them with content. He’s working on getting someone to be the host for some of the drama shows. In the old days of TV, they used to do that. Someone with the girl-next-door quality,” he said.

  “I get it. Merry would be perfect.”

  “If she wanted it. Though it was her husband who did most of the talking. He’s working on his own project now. She’s busy with her books and the other commitments she has. I’m sure if Peter waved enough money in front of them, they’d change their mind. But I don’t think Peter has access to it. The reason they probably chose her is that she has a recognizable name, but since she’s like a C-level celebrity, they thought she’d work cheap.”