If Hooks Could Kill

CHAPTER 27


When I finally checked my BlackBerry, there were a bunch of messages from Mason. Needless to say I was pretty wired after all the business with the gun and then the run-in with North in his trailer. I was pretty sure having North think I was some kind of aging groupie wouldn’t cause him to fire my son as his agent. At least I hoped so.

All it took was a call to Mason and he was ready to help me unwind. “I was just going for a late-night swim. It sounds like just what you need,” he said.

It sounded perfect and I agreed. He was waiting with his front door open as soon as I pulled in front of his house and greeted me with a warm hug. “I’m so glad to see you.” He was already wearing his red trunks. “But we could always go skinny-dipping,” he joked, well, sort of joked. Maybe there was some wishful thinking going on.

I changed into the bathing suit I kept at his house and we went out into the dark yard. Spike looked at us like we were nuts and climbed up on the leather couch and went to sleep. Mason’s backyard was dotted with little lights and was magical at night. The water was warm from the sun and felt refreshing as we slipped in. For a few minutes we swam back and forth and then hung by the side talking.

I began to tell Mason about my evening. He started laughing when he heard the story about the gun. “I wish I could have seen the detective’s face when you walked in holding the gun with the Pinchy-Winchy. I hope he at least cracked a smile. He’s usually so serious.”

“Don’t worry, he laughed,” I said. “He seems to be loosening up a bit. I think the whole experience of being shot and being off work has affected him. He never would have sat outside drinking tea and talking before. Or if he had, he would have gotten a call in the middle and had to leave.”

“Don’t get your hopes up, it’s probably not permanent,” Mason said.

“I wasn’t thinking about that. We’re done. Once he moves back home, I’ll probably never see him. If nothing else, Detective Heather will make sure of that.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Mason said with a little shiver. “Let’s move over to the whirlpool.” He helped me out of the pool and we walked over to the tub of churning hot water. It was surrounded by jasmine and gardenia plants and the air was filled with fragrance. I noticed that Mason had started rubbing his temple and I asked if he had a headache.

“Yes, and her name is Jaimee,” he said. He climbed into the tub and helped me in. “We’re running out of time. We still don’t have a location for the wedding. She is impossible. Pretty soon, it will end up being a weenie roast at the beach.” He looked at me with a tired smile. “I’d rather hear about your sleuthing.”

I finished the story about the gun and Mason got a good laugh about the episode in North’s trailer.

“Maybe the gun wasn’t the murder weapon, but he’s still lying. Why wouldn’t he admit to knowing Kelly?” I said.

“Just a guess, but it sounds to me as if he’s trying to keep himself from being a suspect. If he doesn’t admit to knowing her, how can he be accused of killing her,” Mason offered.

“Barry’s right. Detective Heather would never check out North based on anything I said. Besides, she still only has eyes for Dan. She ought to check out Nanci’s house. Maybe the murder weapon is there.”

“You should tell her,” Mason said.

“Right,” I said with a laugh. I told him it looked like there was trouble in cutchykins land because Adele’s motor cop boyfriend didn’t want her playing detective. “Good luck on that one, Eric,” I said with a knowing shrug. “Nobody tells Adele what she can’t do. I know that firsthand.”

“I love hearing about your life.” Mason grinned and then pulled his hand out of the water. “I don’t know about you, but I’m turning into a human prune.” We got out of the water, went inside and changed back into our clothes.

“Since you seem to like tea so much,” Mason said when I came back into his den. He gestured toward the elaborate tea setup he had put out. No tea bags for him or grocery store tea. Instead, a cast-iron pot brewing a special oolong tea sat over a warming candle. There were handleless cups from Japan and a plate of bakery cookies. When the tea was brewed, he poured us each a cup and we sat together on the couch.

There was a certain amount of tension, for me, at least, as we sat next to each other. We were two consenting adults, both free and clear, but still something was holding me back from giving myself fully to our togetherness. There was nothing like a little crochet to get past a nervous moment. I rummaged around in the tote bag I was still using for a carryall and pulled out a hook. I went back in for something to use with the hook and a plastic bag stuck to my hand. I recognized it as the bag Adele had pushed on me when she found it in the bin of Kelly’s crochet pieces. I noticed there was a small ball of yarn in the bag and went to take it out. There were some folded sheets of paper that came out with it. I gathered them up, unfolding them as I did. Several of the papers were from a yellow legal pad and had some notes and diagrams on them. Another piece of paper floated free. I laid it on my lap and recognized what it was right away. I had one just like it. It was an invoice for a storage locker. A small plastic bag with a key inside was stapled to the back.

I showed it to Mason and explained what it was. “I wonder why Kelly had a storage locker?” I said.

“Probably for the same reason you do,” he said.

“I got mine when Barry moved in and I had to clear out the space.”

“Right,” Mason said. “She probably had stuff she didn’t have room for in her house.” I pointed out that both the locker number and the key were there.

“Are you saying you want to see what’s in it?”

“She did give the bin this was in to us. So, it isn’t like it would be breaking in or anything.”

“Do you want to go now, tonight?” Mason said.

“There’s twenty-four hour access.”

“Sure. Let’s go. I’ve missed not being part of your investigation,” Mason said, looking enthused. “It’s certainly more fun than finding wedding locations for Jaimee to nix.”

Mason took Ventura Boulevard instead of the freeway. We had the street to ourselves as we passed closed businesses and dark apartments. It seemed like the whole Valley was set on mute. Mason pulled his black Mercedes into the parking lot of the storage place. I was glad that he parked far away from the only other car in the parking lot. Could it belong to someone living in one of the units?

Basically, there were four rows of low buildings with identical blue garage-type pull-up doors. There were lights on the end of each building, which made for lots of shadows, but not much help in seeing. I regretted not having a flashlight. Mason had a small one on his key chain.

The buildings all looked the same and we finally realized there was a sign on the end of each with the locker numbers on it. We found the row hers was in and went down the wide walkway between the buildings. There were lots of dark shadows and I was glad I hadn’t come there alone.

Mason pointed the tiny pool of light from his flashlight at each of the numbers next to the metal roll-up doors. “Here it is,” I said pointing to one in the middle of the row. I had him put the light on the padlock. The light caught on a spot of reflective paint as I felt for the key.

“Well, this is it.” I put the key in the lock and when it came free, Mason lifted the door. The only light source we had was his small flashlight and little ambient light from the fixture at the end of the row. It smelled a little musty as we stepped inside and a herd of large black shiny bugs skittered through the light beam.

Mason flashed the small light around the inside of the locker. There were some odds and ends of furniture. I noticed a wood headboard and a dresser, along with several chairs stacked on each other. There was a small round table with a box on top. I reached for it, but Mason stopped me. “Fingerprints,” he cautioned, handing me a pen. I used it to open the flaps as Mason put the light on it. I yelped when I saw the contents.

“More of the bugs?” Mason said, lifting his free hand, prepared to do battle.

“No creepy crawlers,” I said showing him the inside of the box. “But those are the pins and little toys Kelly gave us for the sale. Well, they were almost pins. She hadn’t put the pin backs on. But that’s not the point. They were in the cabinet at the bookstore and stolen by the shoplifters.” I used the pen to ruffle through the flower pins. “The felt backs seem to be coming apart. I don’t remember that from the first time I saw them.”

Mason examined one. “More vandalism or do you think there was something hidden inside of them?”

“What would she have hidden in them? I guess we’ll never know, but the point is, how did they get here?” I used the pen to open the top of a large box sitting on the ground. Mason trained the light where I was looking. I saw the top of a leaded glass shade and stared at the pieces of blue and green glass for a long time, wishing I could see the whole thing. “I’m almost positive this lamp was in Kelly’s room. The lamp I’d noticed was missing after her murder.”

I checked through more of the cardboard containers and found an assortment of bric-a-brac. It all appeared to be nice stuff. When I opened the last box, my breath caught. There was more bric-a-brac, but in the center I noticed a gun handle. Mason saw it, too.

Both Mason and I knew better than to touch it and we both began to back away toward the entrance.

“Who else do you think has access to the locker?” Mason said.

“There was only one key in the bag. You always get two with a lock. The obvious answer is Dan,” I said.