Seams Like Murder Page 7

  “I can’t do this,” she said in a breathless voice. With that, she turned and ran to the front of the store and out of the building.

  CHAPTER 8

  “Maybe you should consider alternatives to Sheila,” Rhoda said. Sheila had left everything behind, including her emergency crochet kit. I had a feeling she had more than one, so I wasn’t too concerned. Adele crowded next to Rhoda and not too discreetly pulled out a completed “hug,” as Sheila’s design was being called. She slipped it over her head and modeled it for the group. The design lived up to its name, hugging her shoulders.

  “That’s what I was saying,” Adele said. “We can’t take a chance of her having a meltdown in front of a class.”

  “Don’t be so quick to write her off,” Dinah said. “I think that Sheila really wants to do it.” I was glad that my friend had stepped in. “We just need to work with her. It has been a rather stressful day for her and the rest of you. She’ll come around.”

  “Amen to that,” CeeCee said. She hadn’t even taken out her crochet work. “The police have been at my place all day. There’s yellow tape around the whole garage now. Imagine, my house, and I can’t even go in my own garage. What if I needed a rake or something?”

  I looked at the group, and they were all struggling not to smile. CeeCee getting a rake? Would she even know which end you were supposed to use?

  “The worst part is, they won’t tell me anything. Surely the police know if it was a man or woman. Poor Rosa had to stay late to answer all their questions. And it was very awkward for Tony. All I can say is that I’m glad they took the body away. They pulled an innocuous-looking white van up to the garage and took a gurney down the stairs. It looked like they wrapped the person in a garbage bag.”

  “It’s called a body bag,” Dinah corrected. Babs came up and put her arm around CeeCee.

  “C’mon, I’ll take you home. I’m sure everything is going to work out fine.” She went to pick up the empty brownie plate.

  “I don’t suppose you have any more brownies hidden away somewhere.” CeeCee turned to the rest of us. “It’s for medicinal purposes only.”

  “Sorry, no more brownies, but I have something else you might like. We’ll stop by my son’s house first. I made my famous chocolate cake for them, but it turns out they’re all going gluten free now.”

  It was amazing how CeeCee perked up at the words chocolate cake. “Well, ladies, sorry it wasn’t a successful rehearsal, but hopefully Dinah is right and we’ll manage to work it out,” CeeCee said as Babs began to steer her to the door. It looked like Babs had found the purpose she was looking for—taking care of CeeCee. She was so nice and supportive. Iowa City must be a great place to live if it was filled with people like her.

  The rest of the group started to gather up their things. Adele took the opportunity to throw in a last-minute pitch. “Since we don’t know if Sheila is going to get it together, I think we should keep me in mind for an emergency backup,” Adele added. “I can step in on a moment’s notice.”

  “I’d appreciate if you kept all this to yourself,” I said. Adele nodded knowingly.

  “Don’t worry, my lips are sealed. Not a word to Mrs. Shedd.” She gave me an awkward hug. “Now that we’re doing Yarn University together.”

  I saw Dinah rolling her eyes and trying not to laugh. Adele always wanted to be in charge. I’m not sure how my comment made her think we were now co-heads, but if it would help, I was all for it. The only thing I really cared about was that Yarn University was a success. Not whether I got sole credit.

  Luckily, Adele had figured her duties as co-head were done for the night, and she left with Rhoda and Elise. Dinah had offered to hang around while I closed up, but I saw Commander Blaine standing outside the bookstore waiting for her and urged her to go.

  It seemed strange being there alone so late. The café was all dark, and the chairs were on top of the tables. When I looked across the bookstore, I noticed that with most of the lights off, the bookcases made creepy shadows.

  “Help, get me out of here,” a voice cried out. My immediate reaction was to make a run for the door, but then reality clicked in, and as the voice continued its plaintive cry, I realized it was my phone. I had a reputation for missing most calls on my cell phone. My son Samuel had been convinced it was because I didn’t hear it amidst all the similar rings. His solution had been to create a unique “ring,” which was him wailing for help in a cartoon character voice. Even with that I still mostly missed it, but the people around me didn’t, and I got some pretty weird looks when a voice calling for help seemed to be coming from my purse. It sounded really eerie in the dark bookstore, and I flinched as I grabbed for the slippery phone.

  “Sunshine, finally,” Mason said when I managed to swipe the screen to answer.

  “I tried to call you,” I said.

  “I know. I got your message, and I tried to call you back numerous times. Do you ever check your messages?”

  “Oops.” Along with missing the calls, I also usually missed the voice mail notification.

  “I was getting worried when it was so late and I couldn’t reach you anywhere. I was about to call out the cavalry,” he joked. He changed the subject, grumbling about still not being able to drive. “I can’t wait to be fully functioning again.” I offered my reassurance that it would be soon, but it didn’t do much good. Mason hated being dependent. He liked to be the doer. He was the one who had gotten in a helicopter and roared over to Catalina to rescue me when I’d been a prisoner on a boat, had shown up in Palm Springs when Adele and I had gotten in trouble, and came by with hot soup when I had the sniffles. He didn’t like being on the other side of it.

  “I’m still at the bookstore,” I said. He knew about the rehearsal we’d planned for Sheila earlier in the day, but not the later one. There was so much to tell him that I didn’t know where to begin.

  “Why don’t you come over now,” he said. “It’s probably too late to get any food delivered, but there’s lots of stuff in the freezer.” It sounded like a good idea. I could tell him about my day in person, and I knew he’d have a sympathetic ear and maybe some ideas. But then I heard voices in the background.

  “Dad, Mom and I are going to make some fudge,” I heard Brooklyn say. Jaimee chimed in and said that it was sugar-free, fat-free fudge, because unlike some people Mason knew, she and Brooklyn were concerned about their weight.

  I think Mason had tried to cover the phone, but I heard it anyway. “How about a rain check?” I said. “Besides, I have a bunch of animals waiting for me.” I tried to make it sound light. Mason had his hands full with the two of them staying there, and I didn’t want to make it worse.

  “Now maybe you understand why I tried to keep my social life away from my family,” he said. “Sunshine, if you won’t come over, at least tell me about your day. A body in CeeCee’s guest apartment?”

  “Then you know,” I said, surprised and a little miffed. I’d looked forward to telling him about the whole thing.

  “Know about it? Are you kidding? It was the breaking news story on the five o’clock and six o’clock news.”

  By now I was at the front of the bookstore, and with the light coming in from outside, it seemed a lot less scary. I considered talking while I drove home, but the only way to do that in my vintage car was to have the cell phone set to speaker, sitting on the seat. Well, until it slid off and hit the floor. I decided to finish the call where I was.

  “The womenfolk have moved on to the kitchen,” he said, and he let out a heavy breath. “Sunshine, I’m sorry about all of this. None of this is how I wanted things to go with us—”

  “It’s not your fault about the accident,” I interrupted. It was bad enough that he’d had to endure all the pain of recovering without feeling guilty. And anyway, it absolutely wasn’t his fault. A car had made a left turn in front of him and hit his car with such f
orce it had knocked it on its side. I still had the image of the flipped-over black Mercedes etched in my mind, and just thinking about it made me shudder.

  “I’m sorry about Jaimee staying here. It certainly wasn’t my plan to have my ex-wife moving in.” He let out a low chuckle at the absurdity of what he’d said. “Brooklyn knows all my buttons. She knows I still feel responsible for her mother. We were married a long time, and Jaimee’s family helped us when I was starting out. I promise they’ll be out of here as soon as possible. And then we’ll go on some fabulous trip and get away from all of this.”

  There were times I wished Mason didn’t have so much character. But at the same time, I loved him for it. I was relieved when he changed the subject back to the mystery body.

  “The news media really ate up the story. The entertainment shows were all over it, too. There were helicopter shots and reporters in front of her place.” Mason chuckled. “Now you know my embarrassing secret—I’ve been watching way too much daytime television since I’ve been stuck at home.” It was true I could hear the television in the background. He paused for a moment, and I surveyed the bookstore to make sure I wasn’t forgetting to do anything. “I suppose the place was swarming with detectives.” He paused, and I knew it was his way of asking if Barry was among them.

  “Barry got the case,” I said. Was that a concerned grunt I heard coming from Mason? “CeeCee convinced me to call him directly. She didn’t want to call 911 and have the place swarming with sirens.”

  “I see,” Mason said. “And I suppose he questioned you?”

  “No, he turned me over to some uniform with no sense of humor. He didn’t crack a smile when I joked that I thought they ought to have my information on file by now.” I could hear the relief in the way Mason released a breath.

  “I suppose you already have some thoughts on the case,” Mason said, the good cheer returning to his voice.

  “It’s kind of hard to think anything without knowing who the victim is,” I said. “Except for one thing.” In all the commotion something had flown from my thoughts, and now it returned.

  “I’m waiting with bated breath,” Mason said.

  “There’s something about the vest the victim was wearing.” And then I dropped my voice as I tried to remember what it looked like. “It looked really familiar, somehow, but I don’t know why.”

  “You’ll figure it out. Probably when you least expect it,” he said. “So there’s no chance I can get you to reconsider and come over? Even when there’s the opportunity to sample some really awful fudge?”

  CHAPTER 9

  It was a relief to finally get home. The animals were waiting by the door like a welcoming committee. I let Felix and Cosmo go outside before trying to coax Blondie out of her chair. It was too dark for the cats to go outside, though they didn’t seem to share my sentiment and Mr. Kitty tried to open the door with his paws.

  “Sorry, guys,” I said, pushing the door tightly shut. I had rushed home during my so-called break to tend to them, but I really missed having my son there. It made it a lot easier when there was someone else to share the animals’ care with. Plus, technically three of them were his.

  When the dogs came inside I gave the whole crew an extra round of treats, but then it was time to take care of me. In all the commotion I had forgotten to eat, and now my hunger showed up with a vengeance. Luckily, I was prepared. Knowing how busy my life had been lately, I had cooked up a big pot of vegetable stew that would last for days. There were biscuits left over from my morning baking, too. All I had to do was heat everything up.

  The stew was just beginning to simmer and fill the kitchen with a delicious scent when the phone rang. I figured it was Mason with some plan to convince me to come over, so I grabbed it before the robot voice announced who the call was from.

  “Okay, what is it? Did they tie you up and start force-feeding you that awful-sounding fudge?” I said with a laugh in my voice.

  “What?” the voice on the phone said. It was only one word, but enough for me to recognize who it was.

  “Barry?” I said. I’m sure I sounded surprised.

  “I’m sorry for calling so late. I tried to reach you before on your cell.” He made a hopeless sound. In a world where everyone seemed to be walking around staring at the screen on their smartphone like they were some kind of zombie, I mostly ignored mine. I didn’t find texts until days after they were sent, and I preferred to be where I was when I was there instead of sending somebody a picture of it. My lack of interest in the phone seemed to rub everyone the wrong way, though, because I wasn’t instantly accessible. “It’s business,” he added quickly. “You know the thing about the first forty-eight hours being crucial to a case. The trail is still fresh. Since you were there this morning when everything went down, I’d like to talk to you.”

  “Oh,” I said, surprised. “You know I talked to the other cop at the scene, right?”

  “Right,” he said tersely. “That was just to take a statement. I’d really like to talk to you directly.”

  “When did you have in mind?”

  “Would now work?” He asked it like a question, but I knew Barry well enough to know that he meant we were going to have this conversation now, like it or not.

  “I suppose so.” I looked around at the kitchen, turned off the stew, and put something over the biscuits to keep them warm. “How long until you get here?”

  “Now. I’m out front.” I went into the living room and looked out into the dark front yard. The streetlight reflected off the black Crown Vic parked at the curb. He was already cutting across the grass. Lots of cops let themselves go after they left the academy, but not Barry. He lifted weights and did some kind of cardio workout, so that even in his fifties he was trim and could still take off after a suspect and catch them. A moment later there was a soft knock at the door.

  Even though the knock was quiet, Felix and Cosmo heard it and scrambled, barking, toward the front door. Once I opened the door, though, Cosmo recognized Barry and greeted him by putting his paws up on his pants leg.

  Barry was in work mode now, which meant his face had a “just the facts, ma’am” look about it. But Cosmo’s greeting cut right through it, and Barry’s expression broke as he leaned down to pet the dog’s head. He looked at Felix, who was holding his ground and continuing to bark.

  “Who are you?” he asked, as if the dog would identify himself.

  “It’s a long story,” I said, closing the door behind him. Quickly, he stopped petting Cosmo and went back into his cop mode, a mixture of authority and impassiveness.

  We stopped in the entrance hall, and he glanced toward the living room. “Where do you want to do this?”

  “I was just about to eat something. How about the dining room?” I took his nod as agreement, walked into the room, and turned on the light.

  “I always liked that table,” he said. I did, too. It was one-of-a-kind, made out of a heavy slab of glass set on a polished tree stump. His gaze moved to the French doors that looked out on the backyard. I realized pretty quickly that he wasn’t looking out at the view and had totally missed the floodlights illuminating the orange trees, which were still laden with white blossoms. Barry’s gaze had stopped on the door handle of the middle door, or rather where the handle was supposed to be. For now there was just the hole. The actual handle was sitting on the floor in front of the door.

  “It fell off last week,” I said. “I have to get it fixed.” He didn’t say anything, but I was pretty sure he was thinking about how when we’d been a couple, he’d taken care of all those little household jobs. In fact, my house had never been in better shape than when I was dating Barry. I hoped he wouldn’t notice the switch plate was loose, too. Just as I was thinking about that, he moved one of the dining room chairs and the leg fell off.

  I feigned surprise, even though I’d known it was loose for weeks. I push
ed it against the wall to steady it and put the leg across the seat. “Don’t worry, the other chairs are fine.” I pulled one out and sat in it to prove it was true. “This probably isn’t in line with your usual procedure, and I don’t know if you’re allowed to eat on duty, but are you hungry?”

  His cop face broke again, and he appeared slightly embarrassed. “More like starved,” he said.

  “It’s nothing fancy, but I can offer you what I’m having.”

  “Anything is fine. I’ve had your cooking. It’s all good.”

  “Flattery will get you everywhere,” I joked. I pulled out a couple of place mats, set them on the table, and gestured for him to have a seat, but he followed me into the kitchen. I could hear him sniffing the air, and who could blame him? The comforting scent of the stew and the buttery smell of the biscuits was making my mouth water in anticipation.

  “Let me help,” he said. When I seemed surprised at the offer, his smile deepened. “Remember, we’re supposed to protect and serve.”

  I took him up on the offer, and together we brought in silverware, napkins and the food.

  “You might as well start asking me whatever you came here to ask,” I said, changing the subject.

  “If you don’t mind, I’d like to wait a few minutes.” He took the napkin and put it in his lap.

  “I thought you were in such a hurry to keep going before the trail of clues dried up.”

  He glanced down at the food in front of him. “If you have to know, I’m so hungry I can’t think straight. I had it under control until I smelled the food.” I held out the basket of biscuits, and he took one.

  “Homemade?” he asked. By the time I answered, he was already eating it. His eyes closed with the pleasure of the taste.

  I had set the places so we sat across from each other, and for a few minutes we both just ate. It’s probably not good manners to compliment myself, but I love my own food. The broth of the stew was thick and tasty. It was loaded with mushrooms, potatoes, peas, carrots and even small cobs of corn. And the biscuits really did melt in your mouth. I’d added hunks of cheese and tangerines on the side to round things off. It was a simple meal but very satisfying.