If Hooks Could Kill

CHAPTER 19


“You better not tell Jeffrey what Autumn’s mother said,” Dinah said as we walked into the bookstore through the café. The smell of baking chocolate chip cookie bars was so delicious, it practically put me into a stupor. So, nobody baked anymore, huh. True it was for the café, but Bob was using my recipe, which I used all the time. I pinched a little excess on my hip—maybe too much of the time.

“I would never tell Jeffrey what she said. But at least we got our answer about the real estate agent. I’m pretty sure he or she doesn’t exist. So for whatever reason, Kelly didn’t want us to know who’d come over,” I said.

“It could have been Nanci,” Dinah said. “You notice that she got her way. After L.A. 911 uses the yard, that will be it.”

“It seems crazy, but she was pretty upset about the idea of filming on her street. And we know she knows how to shoot a gun.” I reached out to take the red eye Bob had made for me. He handed Dinah her café au lait.

“Do you think she has a gun?” Dinah asked.

I nodded. “And I bet it’s a pretty one.” I reminded Dinah of the brochure showing off fancy guns.

“Too bad we didn’t ask to see it. Not that I have any idea how to tell if it had been fired recently. I suppose the cops must have found bullet casings and can match them up with a gun. Do you think Detective Heather knows about Nanci’s gun?”

I put up my hands in ignorance. “I’m not going to be the one to tell her, either, unless I’m sure it’s the murder weapon.” We took our drinks and went on into the bookstore while trying to figure out a way to get a look at Nanci’s gun or trick her into admitting that she’d killed Kelly.

The production company must have been filming a scene because none of them were hanging around. Rayaad was even reading a magazine at the cashier stand. She looked up and said Mrs. Shedd and Mr. Royal were unloading books for the signing.

We found my bosses setting up a display of the books with Stone’s photo and story. They had moved one of the signs promoting the event to stand next to the table. Once Stone had agreed to sign his picture in the surfing book, I’d put up signs around the bookstore and was trying to spread the news by word of mouth. It was all kind of last minute and I was hoping for the best.

I gave Mr. Royal the photo Stone had given me. It was an amazing shot of him walking on the beach holding a surfboard. “If he wants to put out anything about his energy drink, there will be room on the table,” Mr. Royal said. He stared at the photo and spent a few minutes raving on about Stone’s surfing prowess.

“I wonder where Adele is,” I said, doing a three sixty around the bookstore. “It’s too quiet in here.” Dinah followed me as we headed toward the kids’ section. But when we walked into the area with cows jumping over the moon on the carpets and kid-size tables and chairs, there was no Adele.

“Her stuff is here,” Dinah said touching Adele’s tote bag sitting next to a notebook on the counter against the wall. Dinah’s elbow brushed the tote bag and it toppled off the counter and fell bottom up on the floor.

“We better pick this up before Adele comes in,” I said grabbing a runaway ball of yarn. I noticed a hook had fallen free. “Did you see where this came from?” I asked Dinah as I rummaged through the stuff on the floor. I finally found a swatch of yarn missing a hook and figured they belonged together. Before I slipped the hook back into a loop, I examined the cream-colored yarn. I held it up to show Dinah.

“Poor Adele,” I said. “These are supposed to be bullion stitches.” I handed them to Dinah and she shook her head in dismay.

“I see what she means about it being her Achilles’ heel. These are terrible.” We’d both seen photos of properly done bullion stitches and they were tight coils with a slightly crescent shape. Adele’s coils were anything but tight or neat and appeared to be coming undone. We put everything back in the bag and set it back where it was.

“What’s in the notebook?” Dinah asked.

“It is just sitting here,” I said as if that made snooping in it okay. As soon as I opened it, I almost dropped it.

“Look.” I pointed to the title “Adele Abrams, Very Private Detective” on the first page. Underneath it said “Case Book.” There was no way I was putting it down now. I flipped to the next page and saw “Case #1—The Murder of Kelly Donahue.” Beyond that she had a page titled “Suspects” and below that had headings for “Who Gained From Her Death,” “Alibis,” and “Adele’s Golden Triangle of Guilt.” A whole separate sheet was called “What to Wear to an Investigation.”

“Wow, she sure has a long list of suspects.” I did a double take as I got lower on the list. “Including you and me.”

“Geez, is she crazy?” Dinah said looking over my shoulder.

“She put an ‘LOL’ next to us,” I said going through the list. “She’s got Dan at the top with an asterisk. Nanci Silvers is right under him. Look at all the production people she listed. The only names I recognized were Fred and Zeke, the two prop guys I’d overheard and North Adams.” It seemed like she’d listed everyone on the cast and crew except Eric. “She ought to put herself on the list. She could be trying to kill everyone who knows how to do the bullion stitch, so she won’t look bad.” I was just joking about that and we both started to laugh. Neither of us heard Adele come in until it was too late.

“What are you doing?” she demanded pulling the binder from my hands. She stuffed it into her tote bag. As she did, she noticed that things weren’t quite as she’d left them. “CeeCee knows, doesn’t she?” She pulled out the little swatch of bullion stitches and she started to cry and pull out the stitches at the same time. Adele cried like everything else she did, loudly and with a lot of drama.

Dinah and I surrounded her and gave her a group hug. She seemed so heartbroken over her crochet disability as she called it, we both reassured her that we were sure she’d master the stitch in no time and once again promised not to mention it to CeeCee.

I was hoping the fuss would make her forget we’d been looking at her detective book. Of course it didn’t. “A lot you know. Eric was helping me with it. Maybe you don’t know, Pink, but homicide detectives make up a murder book for each of their cases. Us serious freelancers do, too.” She pulled the notebook back out. “When you see this you’ll understand how on top of things I am. I couldn’t get any crime-scene photos of the body so I had to improvise.” She turned to a page I hadn’t seen and showed how she’d drawn Kelly’s workroom with a stick figure sprawled face up with a large red mark in the middle of her chest in front of the sliding glass door. She had used red curlicues going from the stick figure to areas all around it to show the blood spatter. “Eric told me where the body was.”

“I’ve seen a real murder book,” I said to Adele. “Just the other night, Barry showed me the one from a case he’s working on.” I was going to tell Adele more about it, but she cut me off.

“Mine is almost as good as the real thing,” she said, holding the picture page open.

“I drew it all based on what Eric told me, like they could tell that Kelly was shot at close range and was facing her assailant.”

“So then this is accurate? She was on her back?” I asked, and Adele nodded. “It means she was facing her killer.”

Adele snapped the book shut. “All of it points toward the culprit being Dan Donahue. Except they haven’t found the murder weapon and they don’t have any other hard evidence that he did it. At least, not yet,” Adele said, giving us a knowing look.


* * *

Although Mason and I had been having dinner together most nights, that night we didn’t. He called to tell me they were having some kind of family powwow about the wedding situation. I realized I had no place in it, but I still felt left out.

I was surprised to come home to an empty house. For so long Barry had been there every night, mostly Jeffrey, too. But now that Barry was back on his feet, literally, it made sense they wouldn’t just be staying put. I could tell by the trash, they’d had dinner before they went wherever. The takeout food containers gave it away. And the number of dishes in the dishwasher.

I laughed at myself. I was becoming quite the detective. Figuring out Samuel was out was easy. The light was off in his room and the door was shut. I had the house all to myself, finally. It was still balmy outside due to the fact it had been over one hundred degrees during the day. It seemed like a perfect night for an ice cream dinner. The only problem was no ice cream.

I brought the dogs inside and grabbed my purse. Gelson’s and Whole Foods were closing for the night, so I headed toward Ralph’s. The hot weather seemed to have made lots of people put off their grocery shopping because even though it was almost ten, the parking lot was crowded.

Once I got inside the store, I remembered other things I needed and, before I realized it, had a cart full of things like paper towels and cat food. I was ready to pick up the ice cream and check out, when I almost crashed carts with Dan Donahue. I had assumed by what I’d seen at their house that Dan brought everything they needed from his store, but apparently I was wrong. His cart had a whole selection of merchandise.

When he looked up to apologize for the cart crash, I said “Hello.”

“Molly Pink, the bookstore lady, right?” he said. I nodded and he started to back his cart away. I wasn’t about to let go of the opportunity to ask him a few questions, so I grabbed the side of it and stopped his escape.

I wished Dinah was there. We could do a good cop, bad cop thing and get information out of him without him even realizing he was giving it. But with no Dinah, my options were limited. You couldn’t do just bad cop.

“I’m surprised to see you shopping here,” I said. I studied his face. He looked tired and his smile seemed a little wan.

He glanced at his cart with a sheepish expression. “Bang for a Buck doesn’t carry everything. I’m going to have the reception for Kelly’s funeral at the house and I needed some things.” He paused with a long sigh. “I wanted to have what she particularly liked.”

“How are you holding up?” I said. This was the hard part. How to figure out if Detective Heather and Stone, along with everybody else, were right and he was a cold-blooded killer, or was he a grieving husband. He sighed again as he moved a loaf of cocktail rye bread so it wouldn’t get squished by a bottle of Kalamata olives.

“Thanks for asking.” I thought he was going to leave it at that, but then he continued on. I wasn’t sure if he needed to vent or he was trying to work up sympathy. He began by talking about the shock of coming home to find Kelly. I noticed he seemed a little weak-kneed and I suggested we sit down by the closed coffee kiosk.

I started by saying it seemed like too much of a burden for him to have to arrange the reception after the funeral. “I’d be glad to handle it. I’m sure I can get your neighbor Dinah Lyons and her friend Commander Blaine to help.” He gratefully accepted.

“And then to have the cops all over me.” He was leaning on his knees, clasping his hands. He lifted his head and looked at me directly. “You don’t think I killed my wife, do you?”

This is where I started to play stupid cop. “The cops think you killed Kelly?” I tried to sound shocked at the thought. He reacted with relief.

“Good. I was afraid the word on the street was that I did it. It’s crazy. Why would I want to kill Kelly?”

The list of reasons clicked off in my head. There was the big insurance payment I heard he was getting. There was the fact that they weren’t getting along and another divorce would break him. Then there was what the assistant manager of Dan’s store said about him being upset that Kelly wouldn’t help out at the store. And what about whatever was going on between him and Nanci Silvers. I just gave him a sympathetic smile.

“I thought at least my kids would be here, but under the circumstances my ex is keeping them. Kelly’s kids are staying with her ex. I don’t know what to do.” He seemed like he might cry. He was seeming less and less like a cold-blooded murderer and more and more like someone Detective Heather had just latched onto. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time.

“I’m just curious. When you came home that day, did you ring the doorbell?”

“That’s a strange question,” he said. “Why do you ask?”

I hate it when people answer a question with a question. It comes across like they are trying to avoid something. I started viewing him as the cold-blooded killer again. Maybe I’d catch him off guard by seeming sympathetic.

“I’m sure the cops will drop it. What evidence do they even have?” I said.

He took a breath and nodded. “Exactly. They tested my hands, no residue of gunpowder. Just because I’m the one who found her doesn’t mean anything.”

“Then the obvious question is who did kill her?” I waited a beat before continuing. “What about your neighbor, Nanci Silvers? How well do you know her?”

He stood up and prepared to leave. “I don’t know her at all.”

I checked his eyes. No surprise he was looking away.

Even though it was late by the time I finally got home with my ice cream, I called Dinah. Commander was with her and they both were enthusiastic about putting on the reception, but for different reasons. Commander liked to arrange any kind of gathering, particularly if it helped someone out during a tough time. On the other hand, after hearing that Dan claimed not to know Nanci, Dinah saw it as an investigation opportunity. While I was on the phone, Barry and Jeffrey walked in, arguing.

“But Dad, I don’t see why I can’t just ride over to our place. I can go up stairs.”

Barry’s face looked stormy. “There’s no discussion. Give me your key.”

I had to stick my finger in my free ear to be able to hear Dinah. She picked up on their fussing.

“Barry seems to be having a hard time letting Jeffrey be independent,” she said. I just murmured an uh-huh in response. Dinah and I finished her call and I finally sat down to my ice cream dinner. I had the kitchen to myself for only a moment before Barry popped in.

“I thought I’d have some tea.” He opened the cupboard I had given over to them and took out several boxes. “I owe you some tea bags.” He undid the cellophane and started to take some out. I told him to forget it, but he insisted on at least making me a cup.

He saw the dish of strawberry ice cream. “Having one of your ice cream dinners, huh? What happened to Mason?” There was a subtle dig in his tone.

I explained the wedding mess and his confab with his family. “And he didn’t include you?” Barry said. “Since your job is to put on events, you’d think he’d want your help.” Even though I’d never exactly told Barry that Mason kept me separate from his family, detective Barry had figured it out and knew it bothered me.

Barry brought the two cups of tea to the table and pulled out the bench and sat down. I didn’t want to get into a discussion of Mason, so I changed the subject. The segue was easy. Barry had brought up that I planned events and so I told him about the latest one at the bookstore.

“It’s kind of last minute, but Mr. Royal thought it would be a good idea to have Kelly’s brother sign a book that has a segment on him. Stone Thomasville is a world-class surfer. I guess that’s why he moved to Hawaii.”

“All that and adorable, too,” Barry said with distaste. Then he changed subjects. “How’d it go with your search for the real estate agent?”

“It didn’t. Nobody had any notepads. I don’t think there was any real estate agent.” There was something on my mind that had been bothering me. I shouldn’t have said anything, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. “Eric is giving Adele all kinds of inside information on Kelly’s murder, like where the body was. You always said you couldn’t tell me anything.” I looked at him directly. “So what gives?”

Barry used taking a sip of the tea to pause, then he blew out his breath. “I only had the best of intentions. I wanted to keep you out of trouble.” He chuckled. “Not that it did much good.” He paused while something computed in his head. “Hey, I made the suggestion about the real estate agent and I told you Heather was looking for the murder weapon.”

“Do you know anything else?”

Barry’s eyes went skyward. “No, and I don’t want to discuss it anymore.” I made a face at him, which he found highly amusing.

“Too bad because I was going to tell you something I found out.”

“That’s different,” Barry said. “You’d be withholding information. Maybe you’d even be interfering with a police investigation. I think you better tell me what you know.” His smile had faded, but I was pretty sure he was just teasing with the threats. At least I certainly hoped so, but I told him that both Dan and his neighbor claimed to barely know each other and I knew it wasn’t true.

“And how is it that you know that?” he asked. “Any breaking and entering involved?”

“No,” I said indignantly. “It was all out in the open. You can ask Jeffrey.” I regretted saying his name as soon as it was out of my mouth.

Barry’s eyes narrowed. “What does Jeffrey have to do with it?” He stopped and his expression got a little pointed. “You didn’t get him tangled up in your crazy investigations, did you?” Barry had his eagle eyes trained on me as he went into interrogation mode. I tried looking away, but quickly swiveled my head back toward him. Looking away was a sure sign you intended to lie. I didn’t intend to lie, I just intended to give out as few details as possible.

I started out by trying to say nothing, but he saw right through that.

“I’ve got all night, Molly,” he said. “I just live down the hall.” He pointed toward his room as a reminder. “I already heard from Eric that Jeffrey tried to get in the scene they were shooting. I suppose you helped him with that.”

I rolled my eyes in response. “Jeffrey just happened to be riding his bike past the Donahue house and he saw Dan and his neighbor Nanci Silvers acting kind of friendly in her garage.”

Barry narrowed his eyes. “You’re leaving something out. Why does Jeffrey even know who these people are or where they live?”

The question hung in the air. I didn’t want to get Jeffrey in trouble, but Barry had me in a corner. I mentioned that Nanci was Autumn’s mother. I tried to leave it at that, but Barry was unrelenting. No wonder he got so many confessions.

“Okay, Jeffrey wanted to ask her when Autumn was coming home from camp.” I took a sip of my tea, which by now was cold. “I know you’re upset about Jeffrey having a girlfriend, but you don’t have to worry. Nanci is just as upset with her daughter having Jeffrey as a boyfriend.”

“And how is it that you know this?” Barry asked. He was leaning forward in his chair, watching me intently.

“I know that and more. How about Nanci probably has a fancy gun and likes to shoot skeets.” I told Barry I’d found it all out when I stopped by to see if she had a notepad from a real estate agent. He ignored my investigating and only focused on what Nanci had said. Apparently while he wasn’t happy with his son having a girlfriend, he was more upset that her mother implied Jeffrey might not be quite up to her standards.

I finally got up to go across the house.

“Good night, bab—I mean, Molly,” he said. He came up behind me and stopped. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck. He paused for a moment and then he put his hand gently on my shoulder. “You know Jeffrey really likes you and . . .” I wasn’t sure what was coming next and I didn’t hang around to find out.