One for the Hooks

by Betty Hechtman

  I explained that Anastasia was one of the residents on the cul-de-sac who had plenty to say about the neighbors and who had specifically mentioned the Yanas.

  “Wow, it doesn’t sound too good for them,” Dinah said. “Owning a restaurant means they had the means.” She laughed at her own pun. “It sounds like they had an extra reason to be angry with Miami, so they had a motive too. All that’s left is opportunity.”

  “Are you in the mood for seafood?” I asked.

  * * *

  “There’s the Seafood Cooker,” Dinah said as I steered the Greenmobile up Ventura Boulevard. It was the main street in the southern part of the San Fernando Valley and looped through all the communities along the base of the Santa Monica Mountains. I made a quick turn into the strip mall parking lot. “What’s the plan?” Dinah asked as I pulled into a spot.

  “We eat,” I said with a laugh. “And it would help if we could somehow uncover that the Yanas have an illegal drone.” On the way over, I’d explained what Barry had said about them.

  “I doubt they’d keep it at the restaurant if they had one,” Dinah countered.

  The strip mall was L-shaped, and the Seafood Cooker was in the corner. There were umbrella tables outside around a fountain and more tables inside. The front was decorated with a giant lobster.

  It was an informal eatery where you placed your order at the counter and the food was brought to you. As expected, the interior had a nautical theme, with the menu on a board over the counter.

  While Dinah was looking at the menu, I was checking out the man and woman behind the counter, who gave off a vibe of being in charge. They weren’t wearing name tags, but I was sure they must be Mr. and Mrs. Yana. They appeared to be in their forties and were both wearing white polo shirts.

  “Are you ready to order?” the woman asked.

  “It’s our first time here,” I said. “I haven’t had a chance to check the menu.”

  “It’s very easy. You pick what fish or seafood you want and then the sauce, spice level, and whatever you’d like with it.”

  I smiled and nodded and looked up at the board. I hadn’t known what I was going to do until we got there. But now I had an idea. Dinah was an expert at picking up on what I was thinking and playing along.

  “It all sounds so good, but it’s hard to focus with all that going on,” I said, making it seem I was speaking to Dinah but loud enough for the couple behind the counter to hear. “I can’t believe the McPhersons signed up with that SleepOver App.”

  “You know it,” Dinah said jumping in. “Great for them—they’ll be raking in the cash—but terrible for us neighbors.”

  I seemed to be looking at the menu, but really I was giving it a moment for my words to sink in before I said what I hoped would get the Yanas talking. I caught a glimpse of them out of the corner of my eye, and they were both obviously listening. “There must be something we can do to stop them.” I threw up my hands in mock frustration.

  The words hung in the air for a moment before the man started to speak. “I feel your pain. The same thing happened on our block. But there’s nothing legal you can do.”

  It seemed like he wanted to say more, but his wife gave him the evil eye and turned to us.

  “If you’re having trouble deciding, our crab legs are very popular,” she said.

  I took her suggestion and ordered the crab legs with mild garlic butter sauce, along with corn and veggies. Dinah ordered the shrimp with the same accompaniments.

  “I just want you to know you’ll have to peel the shrimp, eyes and all,” Mr. Yana said. “I just like to remind our guests so there won’t be any surprises.”

  “And now what?” I asked, looking around. “Do we wait for the food, or do you have a drone deliver it?” I tried to say it like it was a joke, but they both appeared unnerved by my comment.

  “We’ll bring the food to you. On a tray, by a human,” Mr. Yana said.

  Dinah and I took an umbrella table outside. The day was cooling off, and there was a nice breeze. A few minutes later, Mr. Yana came out and covered the table with paper, then poured the food on top of it. “Enjoy,” he said. “Careful with the shrimp shells. Don’t let them fall in your purse. They can make quite a stink.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I was tempted to call Barry and tell about how much I’d gotten from the Yanas. The way they’d reacted when I’d mentioned a drone, and then the comment about the shrimp shells stinking had to mean something. But he’d made such a fuss about my calling him before, I decided to wait.

  After dinner, Dinah and I parted company, and I headed home. I picked up on the stormy vibe between Peter and Gabby before I’d even cleared my kitchen. I didn’t hear any words, but the tone was definitely angry. As I crossed the house, I heard a door slam, and then someone stormed out.

  Peter didn’t have to worry about locking the animals in my room since they went there on their own. But as soon as they saw me, I got a happy welcome, and they all followed me back across the house, even Blondie and Princess. I fed them all and then let the dogs have some yard time. I felt bad not letting the cats out, but it was dark, and I was worried Cat Woman would find a “gift” for me.

  I grabbed a cup of tea and took it outside with me. The temperature had dropped, and I was just short of needing a sweater. Even during the summer, evenings were cool. I sat for a long time enjoying the peace of my backyard and thinking of everything I had to do the next day. I was still sitting under the stars when Mason called on my cell phone. We did a little catch-up, then he said, “It will be so nice to have you with me. When everything is done for the day and it’s just me in the hotel room, it gets pretty lonely.”

  “I understand, though at the moment I’m enjoying lonely, at least alone time. Living with Samuel is easy, but Peter and Gabby are a different story. They make it feel like I’m living with them.”

  “We’ll have fun,” he said. “I have one of those suites with a bedroom and a living room, complete with all the comforts like a microwave and refrigerator. We can make popcorn and watch a movie.”

  He asked about my day, and I told him about our trip to the Seafood Cooker. I had to pick and choose my words so as not to give away that Barry had asked me to see what I could find out.

  I made it sound like it was all my idea to talk to the Yanas. “I keep calling them Mr. and Mrs. since I don’t know their names.” I heard some rustling come through the phone.

  “It’s Lucia and Massey Yana,” he said. “And they have three teenage boys. Do you care about their names?

  “I don’t think so. What are you looking at?” I asked with a laugh.

  “When you’re here with me, you’ll see we have all kinds of cool online information services available. Hmm … that’s interesting.”

  “What? What did you find?”

  “Apparently they’ve refinanced their house a number of times, and they’re really in debt.”

  I heard him chuckle. “See, Sunshine, I can help you even when I’m far away.”

  I thanked him and then we signed off.

  It was looking worse and worse for the Yanas.

  I got to the bookstore early the next morning. There weren’t many customers, and story time was in full swing. I caught a glimpse of Adele’s outfit. She was wearing a big version of an old-fashioned little girl dress, complete with a sash tied at the back and a pair of Mary Jane’s. I stopped outside to hear what she was reading and recognized “Rice Pudding,” an A.A. Milne poem. Then I understood the outfit: she was a giant version of the little girl who was acting up. Clearly something Adele knew a lot about.

  My house had been peaceful when I left that morning. Either Peter and Gabby were out somewhere or still asleep. I was just glad not to have to deal with them.

  I went to my cubicle to finish up the computer file for the inserts for the kits and then printed up a stack of them. I snagged a Red Eye and a plateful of Bob’s current cookie bar offering before heading back to the yarn departme
nt.

  I’d put out the word that I needed help putting the kits together today. Eduardo had needed to beg off because he was supervising the placement of the glass cases at the new location of his store. Dinah had a summer school class and said she’d come afterward. CeeCee had a rehearsal and hoped to show up later. Sheila promised to spend her lunch break working with us, and who knew about Adele? Rhoda was already at the table. She held up two more of the scarves she’d already finished that we could use as samples. Elise came in behind me.

  “I felt bad about letting you down,” she said. “I figured I could give you an hour before I have a showing.”

  I put the snacks on the table and invited them to help themselves. “Here are the inserts,” I said, putting the stack of sheets on the table. I showed how, when they were folded in half, they fit perfectly into a plastic bag. I put out a stack of hooks and uncovered the bin with the kits we’d already started. “Those just need the insert and the hooks, and then we’ll be making the kits from scratch. It’ll be your choice of yarn,” I said. “You can use the samples as inspiration.” I looked over the scarves on the table. “I love the mixture of textures and colors. These are beautiful. I’m sure that once people see them and understand how easy they are to make, we’ll sell out.”

  “Music to my ears,” Mrs. Shedd said, walking into the yarn department. “Thank you all for your help.” She admired the scarves on the table. “I appreciate how you are all part of the bookstore family.” Then she turned to me. “I need the list of titles the book club came up with for the next few months. You said you had it.”

  I took a few moments to think about it and remember I’d stuck it in my tote bag. I went to get it, thinking it was in my cubicle. When it wasn’t there, a vision flashed in my mind of leaving it in Miami’s guesthouse when I had gone for the yarn.

  “I left it in my tote bag. I’ll pick it up later and bring it you as soon as I can,” I said.

  “Good. I want to have everything in order before your time off,” she said before going back to her office.

  Dinah was the only one who knew all the details about my time off. I’d been rather vague about it to the rest of them and had said I was taking a trip with Mason. Nobody paid much attention anyway.

  Elise pulled me aside. “Remember how Miami said Sloan was selling off some single items from the house? I found the list and the prices, but not where she’d placed them and whether they sold. All I know is the money certainly isn’t in the account.”

  “Do you think Sloan was cheating her?”

  Elise shrugged. “I don’t know. But Miami seems very upset about it. The money is all mixed up.”

  “We better get to work,” I said. I took a bunch of yarn and put it in the center of the table along with the other supplies.

  Sheila did come during her lunch break, and Adele drifted in for a while as well. CeeCee dropped in after her rehearsal, but even with all the help, there was still a lot to be done when I stopped working on the kits in the late afternoon. I called Miami about picking up my tote bag.

  She was just leaving, she said, but the guesthouse was open, and I could come by and get my bag.

  I decided to stop in on my way home. It had been a long day, and when I finally got home, I wanted to take a hot bath and forget about everything.

  This time, I pulled into the cul-de-sac with a different mindset. Now I knew who lived where. Anastasia and Caleb lived in the blue ranch house I’d named the Original. Bitsy and Darwin Jonquet lived in the All-American. Lucia and Massey Yanas’ house was the one I called the Parking Lot. And I’d named the last house, which belonged to the O’Malleys, Colonel Mustard. It barely counted since they weren’t home. A couple of teenage boys were playing basketball in the Yanas’ driveway, but other than that, the short street was quiet.

  I didn’t worry about being seen. Everyone but the Yanas knew I had a connection to Miami’s house, and I was sure the Yanas were probably at their restaurant, working on the dinner rush.

  The sign for Holiday House seemed more secure now, no doubt thanks to Elise’s efforts. Miami had told me to go through the gate on the side of the house. I felt a little uneasy about going in the yard when no one was there, but I had to get the tote bag.

  Even though it was still August, the light reminded me of fall, and the yard was already cloaked in shadows The grass seemed freshly mowed, and the cutout section had been filled with dirt. There was no hint that anything bad had happened here. As Miami had promised, the guesthouse was unlocked, and the tote bag was just where I’d left it. I grabbed it quickly and went back outside.

  I started to leave, but then I thought about that area I called the secret garden. I’d been so disoriented when Dinah and I had looked at it before, but now I thought I might be able to figure out what I was looking at. I walked behind the guesthouse and examined the wooden fence. When Dinah and I were putting away the stepladder, we had seen something that might have been a gate. I thought it had been an illusion, but as I went along the fence, I saw the hardware and realized it was real.

  There was nothing to stop me from taking a quick peek back there. I left my purse and the tote bag on the ground next to the fence and pulled open the gate. It had a spring mechanism and closed behind me. Suddenly I was in an untamed world of tall grass and bushes. I looked around me, trying to orient myself. I saw some ivy-covered chain-link fencing off to my left, but then it disappeared behind tall, overgrown bushes. It was impossible to see where the wild area ended. Ahead, the bushes were in silhouette, and I imagined more growth beyond. The fence was clearly visible, and as I walked along the border of Miami’s yard, the color of the wood planks changed to a darker shade, and I figured I’d reached Ms. Mayonnaise’s yard. As I moved forward, I had to make my way over the uneven ground and through all the underbrush. I stepped on something that made a crunching noise. The last light of day was fading and I poked my way through the growth to see what I’d stepped on. I felt something hard and smooth, and when I lifted it above the grass, recognized a crab leg shell.

  “Wow,” I said out loud. The drone must have come from back here somewhere. I got close to the fence and jumped up and down, attempting to see over it into Ms. Mayonnaise’s yard I got only a quick glimpse. Floodlights lit the rather plain landscaping of grass and some flowers alongside a dated-looking kidney-shaped pool.

  I followed the fence, and when it changed from the dark wood to white vinyl, I knew I’d moved on to Bitsy’s yard. I was able to boost myself up using one of the posts, but again only managed to stay up for a short time. I did a quick perusal, looking for the big black remote-control SUV that had chased me around my yard, but all I saw was that Bitsy had already pulled out her Halloween decorations in anticipation of decorating her front yard. A scarecrow was leaning against the back of the house, along with a bunch of tombstones. An inflatable ghost was on the ground, looking like a white puddle, near an all-season selection of remote-control cars and trucks. That was all I got before I lost my footing. The fencing changed again to a dark wood. This must be the Yanas’ yard. I knew Barry would never approve of what I was doing, but would be very interested in whatever I found out. By now I’d developed a way to jump up, grab onto the top of the fence and then walk my feet up so I could pull myself up and have a look over.

  Lights had come on in the Yanas’ house, but the yard was still dark. There was a little daylight left in the sky, and I could just make out something in the yard. Suddenly a row of floodlights came on, and I was able to see clearly. My mouth fell open as I looked at the line of drones on a long table. Bags of something were scattered among them. A short distance away, several tables and chairs were set up. Now I knew why the Yanas wouldn’t agree to let Barry look around their house.

  My hold didn’t last long, and I was back on the ground now. The sky above was a translucent blue with only a hint of light, but the ground around me was all dark and mysterious. And a little creepy, as I heard something rustle in the bushes. I was going
to skip the last yard since the people who lived there were away, but I’d come this far. They had more of the vinyl fencing, and I was able to use a post to hoist myself up and got a super-quick look over the top of the fence. Their sprinklers were on, making a big arc over the yard, but one of them was broken and was shooting out a stream instead of spray. It didn’t register until too late, and as the sprinkler moved back over the yard, it shot water all over me.

  I was sopping as I dropped down to the ground. Somehow the water had dripped into my slip-on shoes, and now my feet were sloshing around as I tried to retrace my steps. The sky was turning to a navy blue now, and the area was totally dark. I used the changes in fencing to find my way back to Miami’s yard. Then I felt along the wood to find the gate. I found a slight space between the wood boards and let out a sigh of relief. I’d be out of there in no time. Except I realized with horror there was no way to open the gate from this side.

  I felt a wave of panic and then willed myself to get it together. There had to be a way out somewhere.

  I went back over all the fences and couldn’t find an exit. I moved away from the fencing through the tangle of the open area. It was wild looking and disappeared into darkness. Finally, I saw a streetlight somewhere up ahead, glinting off something metal. I got closer and saw a large gate made out of chain link with barbed wire along the top. I let out a sigh of relief when I saw the street on the other side of it. The relief only lasted until I tried to pull open the gate and saw there was a padlock.

  I felt a shiver as the breeze blew against my wet clothes. If I was panicked before, I was really freaking out now. Nobody knew where I was. I thought of how I’d been able to pull myself up to look over the fences for just a moment. Maybe if I did it again and yelled out, someone would hear me. The vinyl fence was a waste of time as it was too slick, particularly since I was wet. I found a wood fence. By now I was so disoriented, I didn’t even know which one it was. I grabbed onto a post and tried to pull myself up as a sharp pain shot through my hand. I let go and fell backwards. I couldn’t see it, but I knew I’d gotten a nasty splinter.