Knot Guilty Read online

  Adele was at the end of the catwalk now and turning and showing off the wrap. She undid the pin that held it closed and lifted it up to show off all the different yarns.

  I noticed that Leonora Humphries was in the front and Adele was playing up to her. The problem was, Adele should have been heading back down the catwalk by now. Delvin cleared his throat into the microphone several times, no doubt trying to give her the message. But typical Adele didn’t notice. Finally, she held up a crochet hook and started circling her hand in a triumphant gesture. I think she was trying to say that crocheters rule.

  Delvin got tired of waiting for her to return and simply announced the next model.

  When Dinah and I headed to the booth, Adele was still hanging on to the spotlight. As we walked, I went over the strikes against Adele. “As far as Barry is concerned, that hook places Adele at the murder scene.” I looked at Dinah. “And she told me she was going to talk to K.D. and work things out about the logo and banner. But now she’s insisting she didn’t go up to K.D.’s suite.”

  “Do you believe her?” my friend asked.

  “I think so. But it’s hard to tell. She could think denying she went up there is the best policy. Not that I think Adele killed K.D. She’s crazy for crochet, but even she has limits about how far she would go to promote the craft.” I glanced back toward the fashion show. “Still, it is so odd how she seems to have dismissed being a murder suspect.”

  “Maybe not,” Dinah said. “I think it makes perfect sense in Adele’s world. She has so much confidence in your detective powers that she isn’t worried anymore.”

  In a strange way, what Dinah said made sense. “I just wish I felt as confident as she does.”

  “We need a plan,” my friend said.

  “For starters, how about we play our Sherlock Holmes game,” I said. Dinah had helped me in previous investigations, and one of the things we did was try to look at things the way the fictitious detective did. “Maybe if we put our heads together we can deduce something that will get her off the hook.” The words were barely out of my mouth when I realized the double meaning.

  Dinah laughed. “Get Adele off the hook? Never.”

  Something going on behind Dinah caught my eye. “It looks like Mason is back on duty.” She turned and we watched together as Mason and Audrey stood near the administration table with Kimberly Wang Diaz. The reporter was holding her microphone, and her cameraman was close by. Audrey held up some knitting. From here, all I could see was something pink hanging off her long needle. Mason seemed to be intently listening to what she was saying.

  The group began to move, talking as they went. I nudged Dinah and we caught up with them as they stopped in the doorway of the room that held the auction items.

  Audrey seemed very animated as she talked. Mason’s expression was unreadable. I suppose it was a lawyer version of a cop face. Then his face lit up and he tried to step in.

  The newscaster held out the microphone toward Audrey Stewart, and Mason looked frustrated as his client continued to talk. Audrey had delicate features, which gave her a waif look and seemed to inspire people to want to take care of her. Even the newscaster seemed sympathetic as Audrey told her tale.

  “My attorney doesn’t want me to talk until everything is settled, but I think it is important for me to explain how I’ve turned a bad situation into a positive one. How I got the needles isn’t the issue. I feel bad about all the problems it’s caused, and now with K.D. Kirby’s death, I wanted to do something to help.” The group started to move into the room, and Dinah and I followed along. They stopped in front of the long table at the back. The snowy white tablecloth made a nice background to the perfectly displayed auction items. Audrey gestured toward the prime spot.

  “I’ve not only paid for the needles but donated them to the auction. All the money raised by the auction is going to charity. It’s my way of trying to make things right.”

  There seemed to be a tear in Audrey’s eye as she spoke, and she had just the right emotional tone. I heard an “aw” sound go through the crowd that was following her along with us. I stepped a little closer to get a view of the infamous needles. The satin roll had been opened, and the recessed lighting in the ceiling reflected off the silver needles and caught the sparkle in the diamonds on the end. Audrey was saying that she hoped that now that the needles had a story they would bring in even more for the charity than the store value.

  “She’s playing them like a violin,” CeeCee said. I saw that our celebrity Hooker had joined us. She was shaking her head as Audrey continued on, saying that she was going to be at the show all weekend. CeeCee seemed even more unhappy when the younger actress said she’d be helping with the auction and the fashion show at the banquet and would even assist attendees with their knitting problems.

  “When K.D. approached me about being a judge, she said I was going to be the celebrity guest,” CeeCee said. “I’m supposed to help with the auction and the fashion show at the banquet. After that story of hers, do you think anyone is going to pay attention to me even if I do have Oscar buzz about my performance in the Anthony movie?”

  Then CeeCee admitted the whole reason she’d agreed to do everything at the show was for the publicity. “The Oscar nominations come out next week. You see how Kimberly Wang Diaz is hanging out here. It was a chance to get my face out there at a crucial time when people are voting.”

  I’d never seen CeeCee seem so upset. She was clearly dressed for her close-up. She’d kept the simple hairstyle she’d worn for years, which gave the impression that she hadn’t really changed, though the perfect shade of golden brown was the artistic creation of her hairdresser. Her makeup was flawless, and her classic slacks and jacket had just the right look of authority to set her apart from the crowd. I could see her point. Audrey had definitely made herself the center of attention.

  “You know that K.D. wanted to press charges against Audrey about the needles,” CeeCee continued. “No matter what Audrey says, they had her on the surveillance camera putting the needles in her bag and then walking out of the yarn shop a few minutes later. K.D. thought it was as if Audrey figured she could get away with anything because she was a celebrity, and K.D. was going to show her that she couldn’t.”

  CeeCee put her head down. “I’m sorry, dears. I must sound so petty. But I’ve waited a whole career for this chance at an Oscar nomination. And then to see my spotlight stolen.”

  Dinah and I both put an arm around CeeCee and told her we understood.

  Mason was sticking close to Audrey, monitoring what she said. Still, he looked over at me and our eyes met. His softened, and there was a trace of smile all meant for me. CeeCee saw it.

  “I saw the detective here before and now Mason,” she said, shaking her head. “You lead a complicated life.”

  We didn’t get to play our Sherlock Holmes game. When we got back to the booth, there was a crowd gathered around the front table as Adele, fresh from her fashion show appearance, was helping several people make the granny square pins. I saw that “Anthony” was back and Eduardo had just arrived. This time he was dressed in the cowboy outfit from his cover model days. He’d worn the works—jeans with a silver belt buckle, blue denim shirt, boots and a Stetson. And all I could say was the man knew how to wear the outfit.

  Dinah was supposed to be the one handling the granny square lessons but left it to Adele, and Dinah and I took over handling sales from Elise. She was glad to be able to put all her energy into moving her vampire kits. Having her husband dressed up as the crocheting vampire certainly helped.

  “I’m glad we kept it simple,” I said as a few people stood around the end of the front table and began to make the little squares. The original plan had called for them to be dipped in fabric stiffener at the end and a pin back glued on. But to keep it moving, we’d cut out the stiffener and the pin back and simply given each person a small safety pin to
attach their newly made granny square to a shirt or scarf. I looked at the pile of packets of pin supplies I’d made earlier and was surprised they were almost gone.

  Adele was using the opportunity to give people a close-up on the wrap she’d modeled in the fashion show. “And to think this is all made with scrap yarn.” She looked over the group huddled around the table. “And we all have lots of bits and pieces of yarn, don’t we?” There was a ripple of agreement. “There are still some spaces in my class for tomorrow.”

  Adele stopped paying attention to the group around her and zeroed in on Leonora Humphries as she approached the table. It was obvious by the way the older woman was trying to see over the crowd that she was curious what was going on. “Mother Humphries, why don’t you make one of the pins,” Adele said, motioning her to join the group.

  One of Adele’s problems was she didn’t pick up on cues from people very well and apparently didn’t notice how the woman she wanted to be her mother-in-law stiffened at the name Adele called her. Could you blame her? Mother Humphries? And then it got worse.

  Adele attempted to speak to the crowd, but she seemed focused on Leonora. “There might be a rumor floating around that a very precious hook of mine disappeared and then showed up in K.D. Kirby’s room.” In case there was any doubt about who K.D. was, Adele pointed to the wreath at the front of the large room and explained that she’d been killed just before the show opened. “I want to make it clear that I had nothing to do with her death and either the hook is an imposter or someone is trying to frame me.”

  Leonora Humphries fluttered her eyes in dismay and walked away.

  Rhoda Klein came back into the booth late in the afternoon. She had a guilty look as she took a seat at the teaching table and slid her tote bag under it. Sheila joined us a short time later. She spread some of the kits she’d made in front of her spot, and I noticed she was wearing a mohair shawl in the Impressionist shades of blues.

  I watched as people complimented her on her shawl and she directed them to the kits. Working in the lifestyle store Luxe had definitely helped her confidence, though I did still catch her taking out a hook and some yarn and soothing her nerves with a few minutes of crocheting.

  As things were winding down, Dinah and I did another coffee run and toured the large room. It took all my willpower not to buy some of the handspun yarn with the sparkle. For once the catwalk and stage were empty. Delvin had finally closed up shop for the night and left the microphone. When we passed the administration table, K.D.’s daughter Lacey was sitting there sending out a last tweet. The rest of the table was empty. We went into the room with contest entries. Delvin was looking them over.

  “I’d forgotten that K.D. was supposed to judge the knitting competition.”

  “You’re doing this, too?” I said. Delvin stopped what he was doing and let out a tired breath. Up close his outfit seemed even more like a costume. He had all the layers of shirts and a vest with a bunch of chains hanging out of his pocket. He’d stuck with the white fedora with the black band and red feather.

  “You should only know,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I suppose I can say it now.” He leaned closer as if to be sharing a confidence. “I have been more than K.D.’s assistant for years. Her name might have been listed as editor and publisher, but I did most of the actual work. I think she was finally going to give me my due.” He dropped his voice even lower. “And I think somebody didn’t want her to do it, if you know what I mean. It seems coincidental that right after she says she’s going to make a big announcement, something happens to her.” He adjusted the sleeve of a pink sweater. “I just hope she left something in writing. Everything is on hold until the end of the show. Then the lawyers will straighten everything out.”

  “I suppose you told that to the cops,” I said. Delvin made a face.

  “Several times, to several different cops,” the man said.

  “They probably wanted to know if K.D. had any enemies.” I let it hang in the air and then he took the bait.

  “I didn’t call them enemies. I just said that K.D. had standards and not everybody agreed with how she did things.”

  “You mean like embarrassing a customer because she wasn’t using yarn from the store,” I said and pointed toward Julie’s entry in the crochet contest.

  “I believe that when Julie brought in that cheap yarn, she no longer fit the description of a customer, at least in K.D.’s eyes,” he said.

  “What about Audrey Stewart?”

  Delvin shrugged. “What about her?” He looked over another entry, a wine-colored shawl that was thick and scratchy looking. The distasteful shake of his head made it clear that piece didn’t have a chance. “Do you mean the stolen needles? Yes, stolen needles. I’m not going to say alleged stolen needles no matter what that attorney of hers keeps saying. K.D. wanted her to see jail time. Personally, I thought K.D. was being a little extreme. All along, Thea Scott had been saying that as manager of the store, it should be her call, and she was in favor of letting Audrey pay for the needles and then let the whole issue die. I’m sure that’s what will happen now.”

  “Was the bubble bath and champagne ritual of K.D.’s common knowledge?” I asked. By now Delvin’s patience seemed to be wearing thin. It had just seemed like we were sharing gossip at first, but now he appeared a little wary.

  “Don’t tell me you’re one of those amateur sleuths who thinks they’re smarter than the cops,” he said.

  “Me?” I said with my best absurd laugh. “Of course not.”

  “There were so many more questions I would have liked to ask Delvin,” I said as we walked into Dinah’s house carrying bags of food from the local Italian restaurant. The family-run neighborhood eatery had been about to close when we got there, and we had to get the food to go.

  “There’s always tomorrow.” She set the containers down on the coffee table in front of her chartreuse sofa and went to get some plates. “And finally time to play our Sherlock Holmes game.”

  Dinah’s house was within walking distance of the bookstore. It was nicely sized for one person with occasional guests like her ex’s kids. Yes, her ex’s kids. They had been there for the holidays. Her jerk of an ex wasn’t with the kids’ mother anymore and had gone off with his new girlfriend. The fraternal twins’ mother had a new boyfriend who thought the kids were in the way. The situation for those kids would have been a mess if it hadn’t been for Dinah. It showed what kind of a heart Dinah had. She loved those kids despite who their parents were, and the fact that the only way they were related to her was that they were Dinah’s kids’ half siblings.

  Dinah pushed over the toy chest left from their visit. “I have to put all this stuff away,” she said a little wistfully. “It was such fun having Ashley-Angela and E. Conner here.”

  Dinah’s own kids were grown, and both had moved to the East Coast and were busy with their careers. Neither had produced any grandchildren yet.

  Dinah brought back plates and silverware, and we both helped ourselves to the food. I didn’t know about her, but I was starving. I vaguely remembered eating something before I left that morning, but the rest of the day had been fueled solely with coffee. We started off with Caesar salad with their homemade dressing and moved on to mounds of ravioli in pink sauce. We practically inhaled the garlic bread. And then her phone rang. My friend was now in a committed relationship with Commander Blaine, and they usually spent Friday evenings together putting on a fun program at the local senior center. He was calling to give her a report and see how her day went.

  While she was talking I almost jumped at the sound coming from my purse. I’d actually heard my cell phone ring for once and started diving through my purse trying to get hold of it before it stopped. Anyone who knew me never depended on reaching me by cell phone.

  I tried not to take it personally, but my smartphone just didn’t work well for me. The ringer would mysteriou
sly change to silent. Or if someone left a voice mail, my BlackBerry rarely let me know, which meant I’d hear reminder messages for dental appointments weeks or maybe even months after the fact.

  “Hello,” Mason said in a surprised voice. “Is that actually you, Sunshine?” I could hear the laugh in his voice and, even without seeing him, bet his lips were curved in a grin.

  I assured him it was really me and not my voice mail, and he said he’d tried my house and gotten no answer. “It seemed like a shot in the dark, but I’m glad I tried your cell.”

  “Are you still shadowing Audrey, trying to keep her out of trouble?”

  “No,” he said. I expected him to elaborate, but one word turned out to be his whole answer. He changed the subject back to me and asked where I was.

  “Dinah and I just crashed at her house with some food from the Italian place. Then we’re going to play Sherlock Holmes. The cops seem to have focused on Adele,” I said. I was careful to say cops instead of mentioning Barry’s name. I’d seen the look on Mason’s face when Barry had shown up at the booth. No reason to start a problem.

  “I’m assuming you two don’t agree with them,” Mason said. “From what I heard a hair dryer was thrown into K.D. Kirby’s bubble bath. It sounds like it took minimal planning. It could have even been a spur-of-the-moment decision. Something done in the heat of anger. I suppose they have some evidence that points at Adele.” Was it my imagination or did he put a weird emphasis on the word they? I guess he didn’t want to bring up Barry’s name, either. There was silence on the phone, and for a moment I thought we’d been disconnected.