On the Hook Page 15

  “They’re looking over here,” Leo said, and he began to wave.

  The other three sat down, but Barry came over to our booth. He nodded a greeting to me and then started checking out my companion in his bad-boy attire. I saw Barry’s mouth tighten.

  “You remember Leo,” I said. “He was at my place the other night.”

  Barry’s head spun back to Leo, and he peered at him more closely.

  “You didn’t recognize me, did you?” Leo said, all smiles. “Thanks to Molly, I have a whole new look. And hopefully a whole new outlook, too. Chinese food today, then maybe Mexican tomorrow. By the end of the week, who knows, I could be eating raw fish.” The likelihood of which didn’t seem high, since, when he said it, he made a face.

  Barry seemed perturbed as he turned his attention back to me. “I don’t mean to interrupt your cozy lunch, but Heather and I were discussing that scarf I found at a murder scene. You know that she knits and knows a lot about yarn. I just wanted to let you know that she thinks we can track down the owner through the yarn.”

  I tried not to show it, but he had rattled me. There was a chance that she might recognize that the yarn the flowers were made out of was unusual. But good luck tracking it down. It had been discontinued for years. I didn’t even have any left.

  “I don’t know why you’re telling me,” I said, my eyes wide with innocence. “It sounds like Heather has it under control.”

  Barry’s cop face gave way to frustration. “Maybe I could have a look at your yarn stash,” he said.

  “Be my guest,” I answered.

  Finally, he went off and sat down with the others.

  “Why is he giving you such a rough time?” Leo asked. “If you want, I could be there when he comes to look at your yarn. I’d make sure he didn’t try anything funny.”

  I had to swallow a laugh. Leo’s bad-boy look seemed to have gone to his head.

  * * *

  I pulled the Greenmobile into a parking spot in the lot behind the bookstore. Leo was about to get out of the car when he pointed to something stuck under one of the windshield wipers.

  “It’s probably some ad,” I said.

  “I’ll get it,” he said, popping out of the car. He retrieved it and handed it to me. I unfolded it, expecting the usual offer for a psychic reader or an oil change. Instead I swallowed hard as I read the message. It was written in rubber-stamped words and said:

  Roses are red

  Violets are blue

  Keep it up and you’ll wind up dead too.

  Leo wanted to know what the note said, but I crumpled it up before he could read it. I asked him when he’d first noticed it on the windshield, and he answered with a shrug.

  I tried to look on the bright side. So far the notes were just empty threats. But how long would that last?

  Chapter Sixteen

  “What did you find out?” Adele said, leaning in close and dropping her usually loud voice to a whisper as I pulled out a chair and set the blue baby blanket I was making on the table.

  The group was already gathered for happy hour and I was a latecomer, as usual. I had been dodging Adele all day, since I knew she was going to corner me about my son Peter helping her.

  Nothing you want to hear, I thought, but I didn’t say it. I fumbled around trying to think of something that wouldn’t make her go crazy. “Just like I thought, Peter doesn’t deal with the kind of programming you were talking about,” I said finally. “So, there’s nothing he could do to help you.”

  Adele let out a heavy sigh, and her mouth slumped into an unhappy expression. “How can I be so close to grabbing the brass ring and someone keeps getting in the way of me being able to grab it?”

  After what Brett had told me, I was pretty sure that brass ring wasn’t anywhere close for her to grab, but I didn’t want to be the one to tell her that. It seemed that Timothy knew how to keep his students’ hopes alive and, at the same time, just out of reach. I wondered what would have happened if Clark had lived. Would he have kept stalling Adele, never giving a date for this supposed meeting? How long would she have kept believing him?

  I looked across the table at Elise. She was deep in thought as she crocheted. She hadn’t pestered me for any updates in my investigation, which made me believe she just wanted the whole thing to go away. I had to remind myself that all of Adele’s consternation was about her meeting; she still didn’t know about my scarf, or that Timothy had probably been sitting there when we viewed the house the first time, or that there was a chance we could all end up in trouble … or in jail. I dreaded finally having to break the news to her.

  CeeCee was holding up a blanket she’d made in a girly shade of rose. She folded it and added it to the pile in the center of the table and urged us all to keep working. “We don’t want to have a stingy donation.”

  I knew that Adele was going to keep complaining about her lost chance at the brass ring and decided to change the subject. I took the opportunity to ask her about the photograph I’d seen of Timothy at the bookstore.

  Adele’s demeanor changed immediately and her face lit up. “That was when Timothy discovered me,” she said. “Joshua Royal arranged the evening. He knew Timothy from somewhere.”

  So that was why I had no memory of arranging it. I hadn’t. It was no surprise that Joshua Royal knew Timothy. He seemed to have been everywhere and knew all kinds of people. When I’d first started working at the bookstore, Mr. Royal had been a silent partner. While Mrs. Shedd ran the place, he was off traveling around and having adventures. He’d done interesting things like working his way across the Atlantic on a cruise ship. I’d imagined that he’d worked hauling stuff around, or maybe helped run the ship’s engine, but it turned out he’d actually been a dance host. With his natural charm, I’m sure he had all the ladies breathlessly waiting for their turn to twirl around the floor. His job had been to dance with all the women and get entangled with none of them.

  I wanted to ask Adele more about Mr. Royal’s involvement, but she had taken the opening I had unknowingly given her and was off, recounting the evening. “He broke us up into small groups and gave us a situation, and we did improv sketches.” Adele was holding herself tall again. “When my group finished, Timothy’s assistant—you met her, Alexandra—came over and said that I had been a standout, and then she told me that Timothy had been wowed by my charisma and he thought his workshop could help me develop it.”

  Unfortunately, talking about Alexandra got Adele thinking about her own aspirations again. “I have to find a way to keep that meeting,” she said.

  “What are you two whispering about?” CeeCee said to us.

  “Nothing,” Adele said quickly.

  Just then Dinah slid into the seat on the other side of me. She did a double take when she saw where Adele was sitting, since the crochet diva always took one end of the table. “I wanted to be here sooner,” Dinah said to the group.

  “Dear, you really must work things out with Commander,” CeeCee said. “I’m afraid he’s turning out to be one of those old-fashioned men who think their way is the way things should be.”

  “Well, I’m trying to educate him,” Dinah countered. She slipped off her jacket and unwound her trademark long scarf and set them on the chair next to her. The damp weather had left her spiky short hair a little wilted, but not her personality. She seemed as bristling with energy as always.

  “Speaking of educating,” Rhoda said from across the table. “I didn’t even recognize Leo when he came home yesterday.” She turned to the others. “You should see him. Molly got him to go from dumpy to wow. I’m thinking of turning Hal over to her to see what she can do.” She punctuated this with a laugh to make sure we knew she wasn’t really serious about me giving her husband a makeover. “He said that Barry stopped by your table at the Chinese restaurant and that he seemed to be hassling you.” Rhoda worked a stitch. “I thought it was kaput with you.”

  “He wasn’t hassling me and, yes, we’re done as a couple.”
As I said it, I caught sight of Dinah giving me a disbelieving shake of her head. But I knew it was over between us, no matter what she thought. “He’s working on a case and wanted to ask me about something.”

  “Is he investigating Timothy Clark’s death?” Rhoda asked.

  Apparently, they’d all forgotten that I’d told them not to talk about him around Adele. It turned out not to matter because, once again, Adele didn’t react at all at the mention of his name. I’m sure that was deliberate.

  Elise had closed her eyes and seemed to be holding her breath.

  “Yes, that’s the case he’s working on,” I said. I hoped that might be the end of it, but Rhoda went on about how she’d enjoyed the show Timothy Clark had been in.

  “It’s funny that when that show went off the air, he wasn’t in something else,” Rhoda said. “What happened to him?”

  CeeCee stepped in, as our resident show business expert. “There are actors who hit it big once and then that’s it for them. The trouble is that they don’t realize that’s what’s going to happen and they blow all their money instead of planning for the future. Didn’t I hear that Timothy Clark was doing actors’ workshops now? People think he knows the secret sauce recipe to make it happen.”

  “Well, he probably had lots of connections. You know, and if he found somebody with real talent, he could help them,” Adele said.

  “Maybe,” CeeCee said.

  “Well, I heard that he coached that girl in Ethnic Smethnic and then got her in front of the right people,” Adele said.

  “It’s nice that it worked out for her, and I’m sure he used that as draw to get more students,” our actress leader said.

  “But he probably only took students who he thought had star potential,” Adele said.

  CeeCee let out a small laugh. “Well, I’m sure that’s what he told them. But, dear, don’t fool yourself, he was doing the coaching and putting on the workshops to make money. Unfortunately, there are a lot of people out there trading on people’s dreams.”

  “And making promises and then stringing them along,” I said. “Which could have led to his murder. What if someone realized he was just taking their money and all the promises were empty?” I said.

  I couldn’t help but think of what Brett had said in the midst of Leo’s makeover. He had said that Timothy was waiting for the right time to set him up with auditions. The so-called parts Brett had gotten were really just playing an extra. Maybe Timothy had used these small roles as a way to give Brett hope and keep him coming to the workshops and paying Timothy to make his reel.

  “Yes, dear,” CeeCee said, “that is quite possible. Actors are an emotional lot. You never know what will set them off.” She looked over the group. “I didn’t hear anything about the cause of death. Did you?”

  “I, er, heard his nightly cocktail was laced with cyanide,” I said, hoping no one would ask how I knew or why I was so interested in this case.

  “If it was poison, you can bet the killer was a woman,” a voice said from behind me. I turned and saw Lara-Ann. “At least that’s what Inspector Reddington said in The Mysterious Case of the Chess Queen. Sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear what you were talking about.”

  “How interesting,” Rhoda said. “I wonder how it got in his drink.”

  “In The Death at Edgerton Manor, Lillian Vanderverre had a ring with a secret compartment. She was known for gesturing a lot as she spoke, so as she was talking to Lord Snapner, she flipped the compartment open and waved her hand over the lord’s evening sherry.” She smiled at the group. “You might have figured I’m a mystery aficionado.”

  “A ring with a secret compartment!” Sheila said in an excited voice.

  We all turned toward her, surprised. Not only was she usually quiet, since she tried to calm her nerves by losing herself in her crochet, but when she did speak, it was always in a subdued tone.

  “We have some of those in the store. My boss got them from a local jewelry maker, and he showed me the secret compartment each of them has on the front. I thought they would be great for aromatherapy. You could put a tiny piece of cotton soaked in lavender oil in the compartment and then wave the ring near your nose when you needed to relax.” She paused and shuddered. “Now I get why he called them poison rings.”

  “Wow, I had no idea they existed outside of novels,” Lara-Ann said. “Which store are you talking about?”

  “Luxe,” Sheila said, vaguely gesturing in the direction of the shop. “We’re the lifestyle store down the street.” She smiled at my helper. “You should check it out. We have everything from the occasional piece of furniture to unusual clothing and handmade shoes. We also have special teas and homemade soap.”

  “Don’t forget your creations,” Eduardo said.

  I knew Sheila was too modest to do her handiwork justice, so I took over and explained that she had a signature style of crocheted and knitted pieces using a combination of yarns such that the end result had the hazy coloring of an Impressionist painting.

  “Sounds great. I’ll have to check it out,” Lara-Ann said.

  “Back to those rings,” Dinah interjected. “The important question is, have you sold any recently?”

  Sheila got her meaning and swallowed loudly as she seemed to be visualizing something in her mind. “I know we got in three, but I only seem to remember seeing two in the display.”

  Elise seemed preoccupied and was the only one in the group who didn’t suck in her breath as we realized what that could mean. Sheila quickly added that it must have been sold when she was out of the store.

  Rhoda pulled out a chair and suggested that Lara-Ann join us, but she explained she couldn’t because she was covering so that Adele and I could be there. “I came back here for a reason,” she said with a smile. “Someone named Mason called for you, Molly. He said you weren’t picking up your cell and he wanted to make sure you knew he’d be waiting outside when the bookstore closed.”

  The whole table turned toward me. “Mason?” Rhoda said. “I thought you two were kaput, too.”

  I was struggling to come up with an answer when Eduardo saved me by rising to leave. “It’s been fun as usual,” he said. “Happy hooking.” He gave us a wave and walked away. CeeCee’s eyes bugged out, and she looked around to see if anyone had heard.

  “I have so much to think about my brain feels like it’s on overload,” I said to Dinah as I walked her to the front of the store.

  “I wish I could stay and we could talk it over,” my friend said. “But Commander is making dinner. He goes to bed so early that unless we eat right after he gets home, it’s like a bedtime snack for him. By the way, he apologized for volunteering my time and said he wouldn’t do it again. Cooking dinner is his way of making up for it.” She was almost out the door when she looked back. “You’re seeing Mason? It doesn’t sound like a meeting with your lawyer. Call me later with details.”

  As I walked back through the store, I glanced into the office and saw that Mr. Royal was behind his desk. The bookstore was quiet, and it seemed as good a time as any to talk to him about Timothy.

  He was on the phone when I walked in, and he gestured with his hand to indicate that he was almost finished and then pointed to a chair. I could tell from his side of the conversation that he was planning another adventure, and I assumed, now that they were married, that Pamela Shedd would be going along too.

  “What’s up?” he said when he clicked off the cordless phone.

  I had always found that it was good to make small talk to ease into any attempt to get information. So, I asked what he was planning. He seemed happy to tell me it was just a day’s outing to Catalina. He was planning to entice Mrs. Shedd into zip-lining.

  “You have to bring back photos,” I said, imagining the sixty-something woman, whose dark blonde hair never had a strand out of place, flying over the island terrain.

  Joshua Royal was one of those men who never seemed to age. He had a wiry build and moved with ease. He wore his
thick hair long, and the streaks of gray running through it only served to give him character. With all the things he’d done and places he’d been, I always thought of him as the world’s most interesting man. He never took being the boss very seriously and was more likely to be working alongside the employees than telling anyone what to do. Mrs. Shedd got the job of being the bad cop whenever there was a problem.

  “I was looking at the gallery of photographs today, and I noticed one of Timothy Clark,” I said, segueing into why I was there. “It’s too bad about what happened to him. I’d forgotten that we had an event with him until I saw the picture. I was just wondering who set up the event. I know it wasn’t me.”

  “Guilty,” Joshua said, holding up his hand. “I should have handed it over to you, but it seemed easier to put it together myself since Timothy approached me directly.”

  “Then you knew him?” I asked, trying not to sound too eager.

  “We weren’t exactly friends, but yes, I did know him.” Joshua leaned back in his chair and stared upward as if recalling something. “You probably don’t know this, but I had a walk-on part on Bradley V, P.I. I even had a line. It was one of the things on my bucket list—to be on a TV show. I actually bought it at a charity auction, so I got my wish and the charity got a hunk of money. They were shooting on location at a house not far from here. The production had rented one of the neighbor’s front yards to use for food service. When we broke for lunch, I didn’t know there were two food lines—one for the principles and one for the extras and people like me with a line or two. I simply picked the first line, which was the wrong one, and a production assistant came along and rather rudely told me to move. Timothy was right behind me and told the guy I was with him. Then we ended up eating together. I’d see him occasionally around the area or if he came into the store, so when he had an idea for an event, he came directly to me. I knew that he would be a draw even without the free improv class. I figured he would pull in a lot of customers.”