Hooking for Trouble Page 22

  Before I’d left for the bookstore I had already heard from my father. He was worried the She La Las had overrehearsed and was concerned about their voices. I laughed when he told me he’d seen my mother’s feet doing their dance moves in her sleep. We came up with a plan for their final rehearsal.

  By now I was too occupied thinking about Mason and the event the next night to notice what the workmen were doing in Cheyenne’s yard as I left for work. I think I had begun to feel hopeless about settling the Mystery at Cheyenne’s anyway. Maybe it was time to throw in the towel.

  When I got to the bookstore, there were so many loose ends to tie up. We had to move everything around and arrange for a backstage area. Adele put on story time regardless, and Ursula caught up with me while the girls were in the children’s department.

  “I just wanted to give you a heads-up. I understand the Mackenzies have arranged for a new nanny, so this will probably be my last time here. I want to thank you for all your help.” She glanced toward the children’s department, and I knew she meant with Adele. Then she asked if I would keep an eye on the girls when they came with the new nanny and help them with their crochet if they needed it.

  Just for a moment I wondered what that meant about Jennifer Clarkson. But then I pushed it out of my mind.

  Mr. Royal spent the afternoon rearranging the bookcases so there was a big open space in front of our updated department. Then he arranged stanchions around the area set aside for the crowd. He planned to attach the rope the next day. We’d brought in curtained panels to close off the yarn department and create a backstage area. Any book shoppers had their work cut out for them with everything moved around. Yarn shoppers were simply out of luck.

  In the afternoon we had a meeting to discuss how the event would go. It was basically up to Mr. Royal, Mrs. Shedd, Adele and me to pull it off.

  * * *

  With everything moved around at the book-store, I suggested the Hookers meet somewhere else for happy hour. I would have suggested canceling it all together, but if ever there was a time I needed it, it was that day.

  CeeCee was glad to provide the location if I was willing to bring some treats. Our actress Hooker’s sweet tooth was legendary among the group, with a special emphasis on chocolate. I had whipped up a batch of my version of Bob’s double chocolate cookie bars to take over.

  I was glad to leave the chaos at the bookstore and avoid the chaos at my house. The She La Las were gathering there for their last rehearsal. My father and I had come up with the idea that they should save their voices and just lip-synch and go through the dance steps. But it was up to him to see that they did it.

  I let out a sigh of relief at the quiet as I got out of my car in front of CeeCee’s. Her house reminded me of something out of a fairy tale. The stone cottage was set back from the street in the midst of a small forest of trees. Tall bushes lined the inside of the fence and completely blocked the outside world from view. I noticed the bushes with new interest as I walked up the pathway to her house. They were just what I needed to go between the trees in my backyard to shut out most of the view of Cheyenne’s.

  Rhoda, Elise, Sheila, Eduardo, Adele and Dinah were already sitting in CeeCee’s dining room, and the long dark wood trestle table was littered with hooks and balls of yarn. The mural she’d had done on one wall of herself as the character from Caught by a Kiss barely registered, though it did seem like Anthony’s eyes followed me around the room.

  CeeCee’s housekeeper was off for the evening, so I made the coffee while she watched, insisting she needed to know how to do it for an upcoming role. When we were all settled with cookie bars, drinks and our projects, CeeCee smiled affectionately as she gazed over the group.

  “It’s so nice having the regular group without any outsiders.” There was an edge on the last word. In case we had any doubts who she was talking about, she elaborated. “People in the pop music world are so different from us actors.” She searched for words to finish her thought. “Cheyenne seems to steal the moment.” Someone mentioned that Lauren didn’t seem the same, but CeeCee ignored the comment.

  “I don’t think Cheyenne is always like that.” I mentioned what her daughter had said about her having what sounded like a meltdown, but CeeCee seemed unmoved in her opinion. I sensed she was really upset because Cheyenne had gotten so much attention from Mrs. Shedd and Mr. Royal.

  “That Susan just kept stirring the pot,” Rhoda said. “She’s certainly hostile to Cheyenne. You’d think she knew her from somewhere else.”

  Not everyone knew who Susan was. Adele zoomed in and explained she was one of her Tunisian crochet students and was very demanding. CeeCee took back the floor and turned to me. “Molly, dear, I have the feeling you’ve been keeping something from us.” I saw Dinah’s eyes go skyward. “Didn’t you think you saw something like a dead body in Cheyenne’s yard? Did you ever get that resolved?”

  The whole group turned to me while Rhoda said, “Didn’t you decide it was an inflatable doll?”

  “Well,” I said. Now that Cheyenne and Lauren weren’t at the table and there was no chance Mrs. Shedd would suddenly appear, why not tell them the whole thing? Hooks stopped in midstitch as they gave me all of their attention. I tried to make the story orderly, but it came out as a hodgepodge of facts. The blood residue I’d found under the cushion, which wouldn’t come from a plastic doll. The sudden departure of the nanny with nothing more than her phone and wallet.

  “It’s crazy, but I think the body was hers,” I said.

  Their eyes all opened wider, but their expressions changed to confusion as I reeled off that Barry had talked to her after I’d seen the person on the ground and Mason had found proof that she’d gone to San Francisco.

  “I talked to her on the phone,” I said, shaking my head as if it would make all the pieces come together so they made sense. They all started talking, but I put my hands up to stop them. “It doesn’t matter anymore. The only proof that there was a body is maybe some blood residue on the chaise cushion at Cheyenne’s. I’ve used up all my chances with Barry. There’s no way he would check it out, or could. And as he keeps reminding me, if there’s no body, there’s no murder. So, I have officially given up. Now all I want to do is plant some of the same kind of bushes CeeCee has, so I can’t even see into the yard.”

  Dinah didn’t know the part about me giving up, and she seemed surprised. Really, I hadn’t known, either, until I said it.

  “I’m so sorry,” CeeCee said. “We all know what a crack detective you are.” She sounded disappointed in me. There was no use defending myself, because bottom line, I was disappointed in me, too.

  When the hour ended, CeeCee suggested we all stay, saying we could order pizza, watch TV and hang out. Elise, Eduardo, Rhoda and Sheila had to go, but Adele, Dinah and I stayed.

  “We can watch that show of Cheyenne’s,” CeeCee said. The pizzas had come. We’d thrown diets to the wind and ordered a large Alfredo pizza, and a large cheese and tomato pizza as well.

  CeeCee hit the button on the remote, and Show Me Your Show Tune began to play. It was the same episode I’d seen, so I put most of my attention on the rich, creamy pizza, and I only looked up when CeeCee began talking about what a low-budget show it must be.

  “How can you tell?” I said, looking at the screen.

  “It’s obvious they don’t have someone doing wardrobe. It’s very bad form in reality shows to wear the same outfit in more than one episode.” I studied the image of Cheyenne on the screen for a moment.

  “That’s why I thought my machine made a mistake,” I said. Adele said she was going into the kitchen to get more ice for the soda we’d gotten with the pizza.

  “One show of that is enough,” CeeCee said, bringing up the list of shows she’d recorded. “You have to watch this,” she said. “Some people say it’s the best show on television. It’s about a scummy detective who’s stuck tak
ing care of his father. The acting is amazing.” She hit play, and the program began with a bunch of shots and narration meant to bring you up to speed. It was just registering that it was the program Mason loved so much when a scene at a banquet hall came on. There was no doubt where it had been filmed, and I tried to wrestle the remote from CeeCee to end it before Adele returned. Instead, it slipped out of both of our hands and landed on the ground just as Adele walked in. She stooped down to pick it up, but when she straightened, she saw the screen and began to wail about her wedding.

  I thought about our trip there and the nonsense about the shootings and the guy’s nephew who was an Elvis impersonator/songwriter. For a second it reminded me of something else, but I couldn’t put my finger on it and let it go. In retrospect, the whole thing seemed pretty funny.

  Adele’s wailing about her wedding brought an abrupt end to the evening, and CeeCee showed us to the door, saying she was sure we all had someplace we needed to be.

  Adele rushed out and drove away in her Matrix, but Dinah and I took our time. “Can you blame CeeCee for basically getting rid of us?” Dinah asked. “Who wants to hear about Adele’s wedding problem again?” We both laughed at Adele’s dramatics, but then Dinah looked serious. “Did you really mean it? You’re really not going to get to the bottom of what happened in Cheyenne’s yard?”

  I shrugged hopelessly. “I hit a dead end. I don’t know how to stop somebody from getting away with the perfect crime.” As I opened the door of the greenmobile, I added, “And for now, all I can think about is getting through tomorrow.”

  CHAPTER 25

  The next morning, Mason’s call was my alarm clock. “Hey, Sunshine,” he said in a bright voice. I mumbled a sleepy hello before he continued. “I wanted to wish you good luck on your event.”

  “Thanks,” I said, stretching as I got up. I think he was waiting for me to say something more, because there was a pause before he spoke.

  “I have just about wound things up here and I’m coming home tomorrow. Let’s do something special on the weekend. Any thoughts of what you’d like to do?”

  “We can talk about it when you’re home,” I said.

  “Sure, if that’s what you want.” He sounded like his usual fun-loving, affectionate self, but I still held back. I’m sure he noticed, and when he didn’t question it, it made me more uneasy. True, he didn’t know what I’d overheard, but he knew what was going on in his relationship with his ex-wife, and maybe he felt guilty.

  I blew all thoughts of it from my mind. Today was D-day—or really M-day, for music. We’d never done anything like this before, and there was so much riding on it. Mrs. Shedd wanted it to be a success for Mr. Royal. Mr. Royal wanted it to be a success because he wanted it to start something new. I wanted it to be a success because if it flopped I was sure to get the blame.

  My living room was still in chaos, but I figured I would worry about it later. The animals sensed there was something up and followed me as I went back and forth across the house, getting ready. When I left, Samuel was still asleep, resting up for the big evening ahead.

  I tried to avoid looking toward Cheyenne’s yard as I walked across mine to get to the driveway. I heard voices and something clanging. I couldn’t help it—my eyes turned toward the activity. I couldn’t see much other than that the workmen seemed to be working on something in the middle of the yard.

  We did our best to try to keep it to business as usual at Shedd & Royal, but really we were just anxious to get through the day. I went home in the late afternoon to change, and then it was back to the bookstore and showtime.

  When I came back to the bookstore, I had to thread through the crowd in front of the entrance. Mr. Royal was just coming out, holding a handful of wristbands. He began to take tickets and give out the wristbands in exchange.

  I heard him urging people who wanted either ChIlLa’s or the She La Las’ album to buy them first, as there was just a limited supply. He let them know that after the performance there would be a chance to get them signed.

  Mrs. Shedd was standing at the opening of the roped-off area, checking wristbands and letting people in. She seemed overwhelmed, and when she saw me, she waved me over. “Here, you take over,” she said in a nervous voice. “There are so many people. We’ve never had a crowd like this.”

  I think she was relieved to help a confused-looking book shopper and get away from the crowd. I had no problem with the job. I recognized some of our regular customers, and everyone seemed to be in an upbeat mood.

  Adele had said she would be the talent liaison—she’d come up with the title. She had escorted the two groups and their entourages in through the emergency exit and brought them into the backstage area. I caught a glimpse of her as she looked out through an opening in the screens covering the yarn department. She was throwing her head around in her usual self-important manner.

  The people with wristbands filled the area directly in front of the Sight and Sound department, but then I noticed people gathering behind the roped-off area, farther back in the bookstore. Dinah and Commander waved at me from that space. I offered to slip them into the enclosed area, and they chose to stand in the back.

  And then it was time to begin. With author events, I always did the introductions, but this was Mr. Royal’s baby, so he went to the front. I’d never realized what a natural he was at being in front of a group, but then he was like the world’s most interesting man. He got the audience revved up and he gave the signal. Adele led the She La Las to the front.

  I was used to seeing them in their rehearsal clothes and my son dressed in his jeans and graphic T-shirts, so I did more than a double take as they approached the performance area. The She La Las were all wearing bouffant wigs, hot pink short shifts, and go-go boots. I wasn’t even sure which one was my mother until she waved at me. My son wore a dark suit, white shirt and thin black tie. He went to the keyboard, and they got in position.

  I saw my father standing on the sidelines. It was sweet how my mother was always a star to him. The music began, and I let out sigh of relief. So far, so good.

  I suppose the disaster in my living room was worth it. The She La Las had the choreography down perfectly, and their voices sounded great. I could see how much all three of them loved being on the stage. I was pretty proud of Samuel, too. I knew that moments like this made up for all the hours he spent hanging around an espresso machine in his job as a barista.

  They did a long version of “My Guy Bill,” and the crowd seemed to still want more after Samuel made the music crescendo into a finale. Everyone applauded. Mr. Royal returned to the front as the She La Las headed back to the yarn department backstage area.

  Once Mr. Royal had announced them, Adele led ChIlLa through the crowd to the front. It was interesting to see the transformation from the three women I’d seen in the bookstore into performers. Cheyenne was in a long black dress with her long hair loose. Her lips were painted a dark wine color, and she had on a ton of eye makeup. Lauren wore chunky heels with thigh-high hose, a very short skirt, and a halter top covered with a sparkly silver sweater that went almost to her ankles. Her makeup was similar to her sisters’, but her dark brown hair was hidden under a wig. The wig’s black hair was cut into a mullet. In contrast, Ilona was wearing a long, filmy, pale blue dress. She had on sandals that almost made her look barefoot and a crown of daisies in her short blond hair.

  I hadn’t realized that Samuel was going to play for them as well. Cheyenne spoke to the crowd and said how happy they were to be there in what was now her neighborhood. She waved to Samuel, and he began the intro. They were pros and also maybe because they were sisters, their voices were in perfect harmony. Since they were there to promote their current album, even though it had been out for a year, they did a couple of songs from it. The biggest response came when they did the superstar hit from their first album. It had become a classic, and I saw some of the audience si
nging along.

  The small group sounded much bigger as they clapped, whistled, stomped and shouted for more.

  “We thought you might say that,” Cheyenne said, flirting with the audience. “So we decided to give you a sneak peek of a song from our upcoming album.” She started to step back with her sisters and then added, “I should tell you it’s called ‘Another Day, Another Chance’ and was written by my sister Lauren, of the capital L small A in our name. The album is available for preorder,” she added with a smile. Lauren had taken out a guitar, and Cheyenne glanced back while continuing to talk to the group. “Thank you, little sister, for writing a song that’s sure to be number one on the pop charts.”

  The crowd hushed as Lauren began to play the intro. By the time they had sung,

  Don’t give up on your dreams,

  Though they have been slammed and creamed.

  I had the feeling that Cheyenne was right. The tune had a stirring emotional sound, and the lyrics were inspiring.

  Floating out on an ocean of despair,

  Where it seems the world is giving you the cold shoulder,

  And nobody cares.

  You’re down, but not out.

  Be unstoppable,

  Put your arm in the air and shout,

  I believe in myself. I have the spark.

  It might just be a tiny light,

  But it can illuminate the dark.

  I will blow on it until it burns into a bright flame.

  To inspire the world, so they will have faith to do the same.

  Another day, another chance to show the world who you are,

  Another day, another chance to reach out and hook on a star.

  The audience had begun to sway in time to the music. ChIlLa sang the chorus and then upped the emotion as they repeated the whole song. And I congratulated myself on how well everything was going.