Seams Like Murder Read online

  Barry finished his bowl and polished off a couple more biscuits, several hunks of cheese and two tangerines, then sat back with a satisfied sigh. “Thank you. I feel human again.”

  At that, he became cop Barry again, pulling out his notebook and starting to ask me questions.

  He opened by asking me why we had all been at CeeCee’s this morning. I brought up Yarn University and the upcoming classes and Sheila’s problem.

  “You’re doing that in addition to everything else you do at the bookstore?”

  “I’m the assistant manager now,” I said. I noticed Barry had stopped taking notes and was looking directly at me as he spoke.

  “I hope all those new responsibilities came with a pay raise.” He actually sounded concerned.

  “It all depends on how Yarn University turns out,” I said. “Is this part of your investigation?” He appeared momentarily uncomfortable and poised his pen over his notebook.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get sidetracked. So, tell me why you all went up to the guest apartment.” He paused briefly. “Let me rephrase that. What prompted you all to go up there?” It sounded like an innocent enough question, but I knew none of Barry’s questions were innocent, so I answered as briefly as possible.

  “CeeCee had this grand plan about making it into a studio—she wants to direct videos of us crocheting to put on YouTube.” I don’t think he was particularly happy with that, but since I had actually answered his question, there wasn’t anyplace for him to go but to move on.

  Barry scribbled down some notes. “Who actually discovered the body?” Barry had an even expression, but I knew that he already knew the answer.

  I raised my hand, which was stupid because there was nobody else there. “I did.” I started to relive the whole thing in my head, trying to remember exactly how it had happened. Barry noticed my eyes shifting back and forth and realized what I was doing. That was the problem with being questioned by someone who knew you too well.

  “How about you tell me what’s going on in your head.” There was just the hint of a smile on his lips. I shrugged and began to talk.

  “CeeCee was ahead of me on the stairs, but when we got to the top and she realized there was something wrong, she pushed me ahead of her. She was pretty much out of commission after that. I think it was Rhoda who helped her sit down on the stairs because she seemed faint.”

  “You know CeeCee pretty well. She’s an Oscar-nominated actor. Do you think her shock was genuine?”

  “Seriously? You think CeeCee was acting? You didn’t see her. She had her head between her knees.”

  He didn’t offer any sort of answer but instead took something out of the zippered case he had with him. “I want to show you a photograph,” he said. He set it on the table and pushed it closer to me. “Do you recognize her?”

  I looked at it closely. A woman was sitting at a table. A croissant with a birthday candle stuck in it was sitting in front of her. I recognized the background and realized it was taken at Le Grande Fromage. I couldn’t help myself and answered his question with a question. “Why are you asking?”

  A ripple of frustration crossed Barry’s face. “Molly, please just answer the question. We’re both on the same side. We want justice for bad guys.”

  Maybe we were, but we didn’t always agree who those bad guys were. Barry tended to believe too strongly in his cop instinct. Once he’d locked on to who he thought had done something, he was like a terrier with a bone—he wouldn’t let go. I, on the other hand, tried to keep an open mind as I followed the clues.

  “Sure, but I want to know why you want to know. Is she the victim?” I did recognize her, but I was doing my best not to show it in my face until I knew why he wanted to know.

  “Okay, I give up. Yes, this is the victim.” He gestured toward the picture again. I tried to match up the face with what I’d seen in CeeCee’s guest apartment. The only part of the photo that matched was the rust-colored hair. “So, do you know her?” he repeated.

  I nodded, and Barry rolled his head with frustration when I didn’t expound on that. “What about the cause of death? Was I right about it being carbon monoxide? Do you think it was accidental or something else?”

  “I don’t have to tell you that,” he said. “Can’t you pretend that you don’t know me and I’m just a detective who stopped by to ask you some questions, and maybe you’re a little nervous and anxious to cooperate since you found the body and I might think you’re a suspect?”

  “Aha, a suspect! There aren’t suspects in accidents. You must think it is foul play.”

  Barry put up his hands in capitulation. “We don’t know what it is yet. It’s up to the coroner to decide. If you want all the gross details, when the body was moved, they found vomit that had alcohol and pill residue in it. Her face was cherry red, which I’m sure you probably already know is a sign of carbon monoxide poisoning. And when we checked the vent, it was clogged with a bunch of twigs. Now will you tell me what you know?”

  When I hesitated, he pulled out his trump card. “You know what can happen to people who withhold evidence.” In spite of himself, his lips curved into a small smile. We both knew it was an idle threat and there was no way he was going to arrest me.

  “There’s no reason to hide it,” I said. “I didn’t recognize her at first. She’s not a friend—more like an acquaintance. I’d say hi when I saw her, but that was pretty much it. Actually, I haven’t seen her in a while, so I have no idea what was going on in her life.”

  “Do you suppose you could give me her name?” Barry asked.

  “C’mon. I’m sure you know it by now.” He gave me a look and urged me on. “Okay, her name is Delaney Tanner,” I said finally. There was some dead air after that.

  “And what else can you tell me about her?”

  I shrugged. “Our paths used to cross a lot, but not lately.” I decided that was enough information to give him, but in my mind’s eye I had an image of standing in line with Delaney and our kids on the first day of kindergarten. We were never really friends. She was much more interested in being part of the “in” crowd than I was, though it seemed like she was always just shy of truly belonging there. It was funny how I used to see her all the time at school functions and now it had been years since I’d run into her.

  “What’s her connection to CeeCee?” he asked.

  His question made sense, and frankly, I was wondering about it myself. “Why don’t you ask CeeCee directly?” I said, and Barry grumbled. “How did you figure out who the victim was?”

  Barry shook his head. “I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to pick my brain for your future investigations. Uh-uh. I’m not giving away any trade secrets.”

  “What did you do, match her up with a missing person’s report?” I asked. I could tell by Barry’s expression I was right. I glanced at the photo. “And that picture was in the file.”

  “You must have some idea how CeeCee could have been connected with the victim.”

  “I don’t. Really. I have no idea what Delaney has been up to lately. Even when I knew her in the past, it was minimal.”

  “Are you sure you’re not holding anything back?” Barry said, scrutinizing my eyes.

  “That is all I know, honest. How about a cup of tea?” He seemed to accept that I didn’t know anything else and agreed to the tea. I cleared the table and then spent some time in the kitchen putting the dishes in the dishwasher before making the tea and finding some cookies to put on a plate. When I brought in the tray of tea things, Barry was just sliding back in his seat. He began to pack up his notebook and the photograph as I set down the steaming mug of Earl Grey tea in front of him. The fragrance of the oil of bergamot perfumed the air, and I set the plate of cookies between us.

  “How’s Mason?” he asked as he picked up the cup.

  His question made me feel uncomfortable. I t
ried to be noncommittal and said he was improving and hoped to be back at work soon.

  “I’m just kind of surprised that he isn’t recuperating here. I stayed here when I got shot,” he said. It was true—Barry had stayed at my place because he couldn’t deal with stairs for a while. We hadn’t even been together at the time. I’d done it out of friendship. I could see it did seem like I’d abandoned Mason.

  “He’s got plenty of help. One of his daughters moved in with him.” I wanted to leave it at that, but Barry was a very good detective, and he immediately picked up that there was something more. I might be good at keeping details of a crime scene from him, but when it came to personal stuff, it was a whole other story.

  “There’s an ‘and’ in there,” he said, locking his gaze on my face.

  “Well, she isn’t exactly a big fan of my relationship with Mason,” I said finally.

  “There’s still more, isn’t there?” he prodded.

  “Okay, his ex-wife is staying there, too.” Barry’s eyes opened wider and he laughed.

  “Now I get it. That’s the funny thing about kids in a divorce—they want their parents to get back together, no matter how old they are. I went through it with Jeffrey when he first came to live with me.” Barry’s gaze softened. “He stopped pushing it so hard after he met you.” Barry stopped talking abruptly, and I had the feeling that Jeffrey might now be trying to get me and Barry back together. I certainly had a soft spot for Barry’s son.

  He polished off a couple of cookies and drank down the last of the tea. As he set the cup on the table, he said, “That will do it for now.” There was a heavy emphasis on the word now. He blew out his breath and shook his head as he looked directly at me. “I know you didn’t tell me everything you know. We’ll talk again soon.”

  It was only after he left that I noticed the door handle was back on the French door, the chair was back to all four legs, and even the switch plate was secure.

  CHAPTER 10

  I was wired when Barry left, and anxious to brainstorm with someone now that I knew who the victim was. I still couldn’t get over the revelation that it was someone I knew. It was too late to call Dinah. Even though she claimed it was never too late to call her, I knew she was probably asleep. Ah, but there was Mason. Since the accident he’d had insomnia. I figured he was probably watching television and would be glad to have something else to occupy his mind.

  I called his cell, not wanting to disturb the house. As soon as the phone was answered, I blurted out, “I found out who the victim is.”

  “Who is this?” a perturbed female voice said. Brooklyn and her mother sounded a lot alike, so I wasn’t sure who it was. “It’s too late to be calling,” she continued. I sensed she was about to hang up, but Mason apparently managed to get the phone from her.

  “Sunshine, it’s you, isn’t it?” He sounded annoyed, not at me, but at whoever he’d grabbed the phone from. Apparently, he’d walked away from the phone for a moment, and it was his daughter who’d answered the call. “Brooklyn, I’m fine. You can go on to bed now,” he said, talking away from the phone. She didn’t go quietly, though—I could hear her telling him he shouldn’t let me get him all worked up. Then she reminded him she’d left him some hot milk to help him sleep.

  “Finally,” he said, and I gathered she’d left the room. “Hot milk, my daughter bossing me around and treating me like an old man—” I imagined that he had thrown up his hands in frustration. “Please, oh please, don’t ask me how I’m feeling or if I’ve taken some pill.”

  “No problem,” I said. “I called to brainstorm. I found out who the victim is.”

  “And?” he said.

  “Her name is Delaney Tanner. She’s lived in Tarzana for years and years—”

  I was surprised when Mason interrupted me. “You just found out, this late? Who told you?” He sounded worried. I didn’t really want to tell him about Barry’s visit, but I wasn’t about to lie, either.

  “Since I’m the one who actually found the body, the cops wanted to talk to me again.”

  “So a couple of uniforms came by almost at midnight and asked you a bunch of questions?” He seemed even more perturbed. “You should have told them you wanted your lawyer present—me.”

  “It wasn’t a couple of uniforms. It was Barry,” I said.

  I heard Mason make an angry sigh. “The same goes for him. Don’t talk to him unless I’m there.”

  “It was fine. I just gave him a few facts. I got more than I gave. I found out the victim was Delaney. All he found out was that I sort of knew her a long time ago.”

  “I suppose he wanted to know if there was a connection between her and CeeCee. If he didn’t, I do.”

  “I have no idea if or how she knew CeeCee. But somebody there must have known her, or how else would she have gotten inside?” I explained the electric gates and intercom.

  “I suppose CeeCee has an attorney, but in case she needs one, I could hobble over there,” he said with a chuckle. I was relieved that he was back to his good-humored self. “Sunshine, it isn’t that I don’t trust you with the detective. I just don’t want to see him bothering you at all hours on his quest for justice.”

  “I was awake anyway.” I didn’t mention the food or the tea. I did my best to make it sound like we’d stood in the doorway talking. And I certainly wouldn’t have wanted Mason to be there. The last thing I wanted to do was to have the two of them vying to see who was top dog. “I think it’s easier for me to deal with him directly.” I took a breath before continuing. “That is, as long as he doesn’t start looking at me as his prime suspect,” I said, trying to lighten the moment.

  “What’s your next step?” Mason asked.

  “What makes you think I have a next step?” I countered. I was glad when I heard him chuckle.

  “We all know that you’ve probably already started trying to connect the dots in this case.”

  “To be honest, until I knew who the victim was, I had no idea what to do.”

  “But now you do?” he said. It was such a relief to hear him sound like his old self. It seemed whenever I called, Brooklyn was somewhere in the background, making it difficult for him to talk. Now there was the addition of Jaimee. I was glad that for once it was just the two of us talking with no audience.

  “Actually, that’s why I called. I thought we could shoot ideas back and forth.”

  “Of course,” he said. “There’s nothing I’d like to do more.” He stopped, and I heard him chuckle. “Well, there is, but due to my mobility issues at the moment, it isn’t on the table.” Cosmo jumped next to me on the couch. “Why don’t you come over? I can let you in without the ladies finding out. We could at least cuddle while we talk.”

  It sounded appealing, but by then the long, long day had kicked in, and I wondered if I’d even be able to get off the couch. “Rain check,” I said. “And we better talk fast. I’m fading quickly.”

  Mason suggested talking to CeeCee and whoever else was regularly in the house. “That would be the housekeeper and Tony Bonnard,” I said.

  “Really?” Mason said in a gossipy voice. “He’s living there?”

  “CeeCee said it was just temporary. He’s trying to put together a web-only show, now that he’s off the soap.”

  “I knew that,” Mason said. “And every other Hollywood tidbit. I need to stop watching all this television. It’s so much better to talk about something real.”

  I was quiet for a moment, and he asked if I was still there. I’d gotten distracted because the image of the body on the ground had come back in my mind, and I was thinking about the vest. “Sorry,” I said. I mentioned the vest and the fact that something about it seemed familiar.

  “I’m afraid I can’t help you with that,” he said. I yawned, and he heard it. “Sunshine, maybe I can’t sleep, but you certainly need yours. We’ll talk tomorrow and do so
me more brainstorming.” He signed off with his usual “love you.”

  “Me, too,” I said before clicking off.

  I didn’t dare sit longer or I would have fallen asleep. I undressed quickly and fell into bed. I was drifting off to sleep as I felt my assorted animals join me, all in their usual spots.

  * * *

  I woke up the next morning with the vague memory of some very odd dreams. First, I’d been investing in a yarn company, and then a line of sheep had walked through the scene. There were some dancing crochet hooks that tripped over one another and fell down, then a pair of knitting needles popped up in a triumphant manner.

  “Knitting needles winning,” I said aloud and swung my feet over the side of the bed to get up. “I better not mention this dream to Adele.” Felix put his head up when I spoke. He seemed less concerned with what I had to say than with the prospect of being let outside. He was off and running across the house before I had put on my slippers.

  I was still thinking about the dream, trying to figure out what it meant while I drove to the bookstore. I guess I should be grateful I dreamed about dancing crochet hooks rather than dead bodies.

  On my way into the bookstore, reality hit, and I wondered if any of our group would show up for our regular get-together. I was totally shocked when I’d barely walked in the front door of the bookstore and I saw CeeCee hanging out by the poster promoting Yarn University.

  People often came up to CeeCee at the bookstore and wanted an autograph or a photo, and she never, ever refused, so she always took special care to look nice when she came here.

  But this morning, she was dressed to be ignored. CeeCee was smart enough not to don a big hat and sunglasses if she wanted to be invisible, but this was the first time I’d ever seen her in jeans—and these weren’t designer ones, either. She had a hoodie over the washed-out jeans and a bandana tied over her hair. She made eye contact with me and pointed toward the yarn department in the back. Instead of walking straight to it, she stuck to the side of the store, practically in the shadow.