One for the Hooks Page 8

  “Chinese it is then.”

  “We’ll have to talk in my room. I’ll explain when you get here. So park on the street and call me. I’ll let you in through the den,” I said.

  “A room’s a room, he said in his professional voice.

  I jumped when my cell phone rang a half hour later. “I’m here,” Barry said.

  “I’ll let you in.” I slipped out the bedroom door and glanced through the doorway into the living room. There were people on both of the couches. They were too busy having wine and talking to notice me as I slid along the wall to the door.

  As soon as I saw Barry step onto the stone patio, I opened the door and motioned him in, putting my finger to my lips. I saw him glance toward the living room as he followed me into the separate area.

  The pungent fragrance of the food floated up through the paper bag in his arms. “Sorry for shushing you,” I said once we were inside with the door shut, and it was okay to talk. “Those people aren’t supposed to know I’m here.” The delicious smells arising from the paper bag made my mouth start to water. “The food smells heavenly.”

  “Let me guess. They weren’t just dropping by the other night,” he said.

  “It’s a long story, but basically his life fell apart, and he’s staying here for a while.”

  Before we passed the closets and bathroom, Cosmo and Felix gave Barry a hero’s welcome because they liked him and, well, he was carrying food.

  “This isn’t where I’d thought we have our talk, but like I said, a room is a room.” He glanced around the large space that was predominated by my bed, and I pointed him toward the sitting area I’d set up. I’d found a stool and a folding table and put them up next to the butterscotch-colored loveseat against the wall. He was all Detective Greenberg, and the only clue that he felt anything was the slight sigh I heard as he stole another look around. Was he thinking of other times when he’d been here under different circumstances? I realized I was, and felt my face get a little flushed. I pushed away the memories and directed him to put the food on the table.

  He glanced back in the direction of the rest of the house. “So your son has sent you off to your room,” he said with a subtle headshake of disapproval.

  “He’s meeting some business people. I don’t want to stand in the way of anything that will help him and his”—I hesitated, still not quite sure what title to give her, and finally just said—“Gabby move back out.”

  He put the brown paper bag of food on the folding table, and I started to take out the containers. The smell was wafting his way, and I watched him try to ignore it. “I should have gotten plates,” he said.

  “No problem. I’ll make do.” I grabbed a set of chopsticks and sat down on the stool before digging into the sweet and sour chicken. “Thank you. I’m starving.”

  “I can see that.” He was still standing and trying not to look at the food. “Maybe we can get to why I’m here,” he said.

  “Why don’t you join me?” I pulled out another pair of chopsticks and offered them to him.

  He hesitated and seemed to be fighting with himself. “This isn’t a social call.” Then he let his breath out. “You win.” I handed him the sweet and sour chicken and began to open the other containers. He finally sat down on the loveseat, and we passed the containers back and forth.

  “See, no plates, no problem,” I said. “There are a few kinks to work out with them staying here.” I let out a sigh, relieved that the edge was off my hunger.

  He looking into the container he’d been working on as he put it on the small table. “I’m sorry I ate so much,” he said.

  “That’s why I told you to get a lot. I knew the smell would win out over your hunger suppression, as you call it. Thank you again for bringing the food. If I’d tried going into the kitchen, Peter would have probably tried to pass me off as the housekeeper,” I said with a shrug.

  “Sure thing,” he said. He seemed to be making an effort to keep a noncommittal tone.

  “Okay, we might as well get to why you’re here,” I said. I checked and Princess was still next to Blondie in the chair. Barry hadn’t even noticed her. I wondered if it was better to just confess what I’d done and ask for forgiveness.

  “It’s about this afternoon,” he said.

  “Whatever I did, I had a good reason.” I stole a look at the tiny white dog. Even if I got in trouble, it was worth it, knowing that she was safe and cared for.

  “What did you do?” he asked in his interrogation voice.

  “Why don’t you tell me what you think I did,” I said.

  “I think you should tell me what you think I’m here about,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “Have you been up to something?”

  “I’m taking the fifth,” I said.

  “Hmm,” he said. “You’re making me rethink my idea. Maybe I should just go.”

  “No,” I said. “You can’t leave without telling me why you came.”

  “Okay,” he said, “I’ll tell you why I wanted to talk to you, but you have to tell me what you did. Deal?”

  “I guess so,” I said. “But you go first.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I was going to ask for your help. Like how you did before when you fed me information.”

  “I don’t think I just fed you information. I did a lot of investigating and figuring things out too.”

  “Whatever. But this time is different,” he said. “I was just thinking of asking you to keep your ears open since you seemed to be in the middle of whatever is going on at that house and with Miami Wintergarten. But now I’m not so sure.” He had a stern expression. “I told you mine. Now it’s your turn.”

  “I didn’t break and enter. I just borrowed a key,” I said.

  “Could you start at the beginning?” he said.

  I told him about the dog rescue. “I was afraid you’d take her to the pound.” I gestured toward the orange chair, and he finally saw the dog next to Blondie.

  “So you stole a key from a dead woman’s purse, went into her house, and kidnapped her dog.”

  “It all sounds so much worse when you say it like that,” I said. “I’m going to call her sister and tell her about the dog. She’ll probably be grateful.”

  He shook his head in a scolding manner. “Unless she decides to press charges because you stole her sister’s key and went in her house without permission and kidnapped her dog. Next time, talk to me first,” he said. “We could have worked something out.” He leveled his gaze at me. “Is that it?”

  “Yes. Do you really think she’s going to press charges?” I said, suddenly scared.

  He shrugged. “Probably not, and I’m going to pretend I don’t know anything about it.”

  “Does that mean you want me to help you on this case?”

  “I hope I’m not making a mistake. It seems like what happened was intended to be a nuisance, and it was an accident that the victim got involved. Whoever did it probably feels guilty about what happened. I thought that you could keep your ear to the ground.”

  “And then I would tell you what I hear?”

  “But you can’t tell anyone we’re doing this.”

  “Because?” I looked him in the eye and he seemed uncomfortable.

  “You know why.”

  “Because you don’t want anyone to know you need help.”

  He blew out his breath. “I don’t really need your help. I could handle this just fine. It’s just more expedient to have you talk to the neighbors.”

  “Not to tell you your business,” I said with a smile, “but I heard drones have to be registered. Can’t you check out who has drones in the area and then use your interrogation skills to find out who did it?”

  “That’s fine, if the drone is legal. But I guess you didn’t consider that someone committing a crime with a drone isn’t likely to use one that could be tracked. And for your information, we already looked for registered drones in the cul-de-sac.”

  “If I agree to this scheme, how’s it goi
ng to work?” I asked.

  “I think it’s more a case of if I agree to let you do it,” he said. “But assuming I do, you give me reports in person. It has to stay between the two of us.” He hesitated. “You can’t even tell Mason.” His mouth eased into an almost smile. “You probably wouldn’t want to tell him anyway. He might not understand.” Barry looked around the room to make his point.

  My expression must have given away something, because Barry trained his eyes on me. “What’s going on?”

  “What makes you think there’s anything going on?” I said.

  “Detectives excel at reading body language and facial expressions,” he said. “So, what is it?”

  I was usually good at twisting things around by answering his questions with questions, but I didn’t have it in me this time. “Mason proposed,” I said.

  “What?” Barry said. “I thought he didn’t want to get married. Wasn’t that his appeal, since you didn’t want any commitments. You didn’t want to get married again.” He was trying to keep up his professional mode, but there was hurt in his voice. I was caught off guard by the display of emotion, expecting that by now Barry would have gotten past it. There were a number of reasons things hadn’t worked out for Barry and me, like the fact that his life was totally chaotic. At any time, he could get a call and have to leave. He needed to be in control, and well, being controlled wasn’t my thing, but the bottom line, and what he seemed to think was the real reason, was that he wanted to get married and I didn’t.

  I told Barry about Mason’s pro bono work and that he traveled a lot now. “I didn’t say I said yes,” I said in a light tone. I hadn’t expected such a strong reaction from him, and it made me uncomfortable.

  “But you’re going to, aren’t you?” He was trying to stay in cop mode, but whatever control he had was gone, and his eyes flared with emotion.

  “I don’t know,” I said. My shoulders slumped. “I said I’d think about it.”

  “What’s made you even consider getting married again? Is it that you’re going to be a grandmother?”

  My head shot up as I realized he’d touched a nerve. Was that why I was even considering it? Getting married and starting a new life came with a different image than being called Granny.

  “Of course not,” I said. This was getting too personal, and I wanted to get back to talking about the case. “So, we’re agreed that I’ll see what I can find out for you.”

  He seemed relieved about the subject change too. “Fine. I agree that you’re working for me. Just like before, I will contact you and we talk in person. Agreed?”

  “I can’t call you if I get a hot tip?” I said.

  “No. It all has to be off the record. I don’t want there to be a chance anyone overhears. Why don’t you start off by telling me what you already know that you didn’t tell me this afternoon?” he said.

  “Why don’t you tell me what you know first?” I said.

  Barry laughed. “I thought we agreed that you’d give me information.”

  “Maybe you agreed, but I never did. Don’t you think it would be better if we shared what we found out?”

  “No,” Barry said. “I’m the detective. Can’t you just play by my rules and stop answering my questions with questions?”

  “I don’t know if I can do it that way,” I said. “Besides, it’s more fun this way.”

  “So you like to watch me get upset?” he said. There was a flicker of light in his eyes.

  “Well, not really. I guess I like to know that I can hold my own.”

  “Don’t worry. There’s no doubt about that. Getting you to give a straight answer is always a challenge.”

  I threw him a teasing smile. “I’m just trying to keep you on your toes.”

  “You do that and more.”

  “Really?”

  He shook his head with mock regret. “I have an easier time getting a straight answer out of a suspect. They’re too intimidated to fool around.”

  “But this is more interesting.”

  Barry was silent for a moment, and I thought he was going to renege on the idea of us working together, but then he shrugged. “It’s certainly something.”

  When Barry left, I turned on the TV to catch the news. I was only half listening until I heard Kimberly Wang Diaz’s voice. I turned to look at the screen directly. She was standing in the cul-de-sac talking to a woman. I did a double take when I realized it was the woman from the book club whose name I’d forgotten again. She kept saying no comment, trying to get away. I bet she had just the kind of information Barry was looking for. And another thought passed through my mind. What if she was involved?

  Chapter Ten

  The next morning I brewed myself some coffee, glad that I’d thought to bring the pot to my section of the house. I stared at my phone as I sipped from my cup. I hadn’t wanted to call Sloan’s sister until I was sure she’d been notified of the death. It wasn’t a comfortable call to make. I doubted she would accuse me of what Barry had suggested, but who knew for sure? By the same token, I wanted to let her know that Sloan’s dog was being cared for.

  I was onto a second cup before I finally picked up the phone and dialed the number I was pretty sure belonged to Sloan’s sister. The phone rang a long time before a woman finally answered. I realized I didn’t know Sloan’s sister’s name.

  “My name is Molly Pink,” I began. “Are you Sloan Renner’s sister?”

  “Are you calling from the police?” the woman asked.

  “No. It’s about Sloan’s dog.”

  “Oh, dear, is she all right?”

  I assured her that Princess was fine.

  I heard the woman let out her breath. “We didn’t even think about the dog.” She took a breath. “My name is Marge Fairway, and I’m Sloan’s sister’s caretaker. By the way, her name is Donna Renner.” She dropped her voice. “It’s been a lot,” she said. “Donna never expected to get a call from a police detective about her sister. She’s in shock, and she’s just recovering from another surgery.”

  “First, please tell her how sorry I am for her loss,” I said. “I was calling to tell her that I took Princess to my house, and I’ll be happy to take care of her for as long as necessary.” I heard the woman relay the message to Donna. Then there was a lot of rustling, and someone new took over the call.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Molly Pink,” I answered. “Is this Donna?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Marge said you have Princess.” She sounded agitated, and I worried that she didn’t understand the situation.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss,” I said.

  “I don’t know what to think,” she began. “The police person said she was hit by a drone. Do you know anything about it?”

  “I’m sure the police will investigate what happened and will be able to tell you more.” I decided to come clean with her and tell her exactly what I had done, hoping she would understand and not decide she wanted to see me in handcuffs. “I hope it’s okay, but I used Sloan’s key to get in. It was kind of breaking the rules, but I was afraid the cops would take the dog to the pound once they went to her place.”

  “Thank you. Sloan loved that dog. It would have been terrible if she’d been taken to the pound. You’ll have to forgive me if I seem scattered. I’m on a bunch of meds and I’m in shock about Sloan. It feels like my mind is going in circles. My big sister was everything to me.”

  “Please let me know if there’s anything I can do to help,” I said. “Meanwhile, you don’t have to worry about Princess. She can stay at my house for as long as necessary or forever.”

  “Thank you. I wish I could say I’d take the dog, but I’m living in a place that doesn’t allow pets. You sound like you have a kind heart, and I’m sure Sloan would want you to keep Princess. If you could keep an eye on Sloan’s house, that would be wonderful. I’m in San Diego and I can’t travel. There’s a key under the flower pot with the petunias,” Donna said.

  “Of cou
rse,” I said. “Just take care of yourself for now.”

  “God bless you,” Donna said before she hung up.

  I let out a huge sigh of relief. Donna didn’t want to see me in a striped suit behind bars. I went over and gave the small white dog a snuggle. “It looks like this is your home now.”

  When it came time to leave for the bookstore, I left through the den door instead of going out through the kitchen, which was my habit. I could hear Peter and Gabby talking in there, and I wasn’t up for being treated like an intruder in my own home.

  Mrs. Shedd caught me as I came in. “I hope this doesn’t sound cold, considering that someone died,” she began, “but what’s going to happen with the yarn?”

  “I don’t think anything has changed. The homeowner still wants to sell it. I thought I would go there later today and pick it up.”

  Mrs. Shedd seemed concerned. “Joshua and I were taken with your plan for the kits and the event, but should we rethink it? Do we want yarn that’s associated with a death? What if the connection comes out? The death was all over the news last night. But then I guess it’s not every day that someone gets hit with a drone.”

  I hadn’t heard the news and asked her if there were any other details. “Well, actually that Kimberly Wang Diaz did a report from out in front of the house, and I thought I saw you running away from the camera,” she said, looking at me expectantly. I admitted that it was me, and she assured me that all that showed was my back.

  “You certainly get in the middle of some unusual things.”

  “Not intentionally,” I said before assuring her the yarn would be fine. I’d gotten caught up in the plan to create the kits. I loved the idea and that they would be something unique to us. My boss told me she’d have the check ready to take along when I went. I ran the idea past her of having the event the following Saturday, and she sparked on it.

  I went back to the yarn department to start working on everything connected to the kits. Elise had said she would handle putting the packages together, so I concentrated on writing up some copy about them for the store signs. Mr. Royal was in charge of social media, and I was sure he’d get the word out. I found the pattern using assorted yarns I’d told the group about and made some corrections to it.