If Hooks Could Kill (12 page)

No sooner had I shut them when out of nowhere, I remembered Kelly going to answer the door. “Kelly said it was a real estate agent handing out brochures. Wait,” I said in an excited voice. “Kelly had us go out through the yard. I bet she didn’t want us to see who it was.” I laughed out loud. “And Adele, super detective that she claims to be, never even noticed.” I put my hands up in a triumphant Rocky pose. “I’ve got an important clue and she doesn’t.” Maybe I sounded a little childish, but then she’d sounded that way first.

“You’re a genius,” I said to Mason throwing my arms around him. “All I have to do now is figure out who came over.”

C
HAPTER
18

As soon as I walked through the door of my house, I called Dinah and told her about my recollection of the last time we’d seen Kelly.

“It never occurred to me that Kelly didn’t want us to see who came to the door,” Dinah said. She reminded me that we’d thought of Kelly answering the door while on our trip to the dollar store, but in all the commotion over the dollar-of-the-hour special, we’d gotten distracted and dropped it. I’d hoped she could add some new observation, but she seemed a little distracted and I could hear Commander in the background. “Let me sleep on it,” she said. I would have liked to talk about it longer, but I certainly understood.

Since I didn’t have Dinah to talk to, I began to replay the evening in my mind. Dinner with Mason had been fun. Once we stopped talking about weddings and murders, we told each other funny stories and laughed a lot. Afterward, he’d driven me back to the bookstore to get my car and then followed me home to make sure I got inside safely.

I’d pulled into my driveway and expected him to drive on, but instead, he parked at the curb and walked to where I was standing. “This is so sweet and romantic,” he said taking me in his arms and kissing me good night. “I feel like I’m in high school all over again.” As he said that the motion sensor light came on. Mason laughed and said it was like in the old days when someone’s parents ended a makeout session by turning on the porch light. He gave me another quick kiss and bid me good night.

*   *   *

But now that I was home I still felt wired. I went into the kitchen to make a large cup of tea, figuring I would take it to my room and spend some time crocheting. There was nothing like the repetitive motion of the craft to iron out the kinks and get me to relax.

“Having tea again,” Barry said and I jumped. I hadn’t realized he’d come in the kitchen. “Just to let you know, the trash has been taken out, and I let the dogs out in the yard for a last hurrah before bedtime. The cats have been fed and their box attended to.” This time he didn’t even ask if he could join me and just took out two mugs. He checked the basket that held my assortment of teas. “What shall we have tonight?” He held up a box of Earl Grey and I nodded. He filled the mugs from the hot water dispenser. The air filled with the unique fragrance of the tea laced with oil of bergamot.

“Go on outside. I’ll bring it,” Barry said. When I looked up, Jeffrey had come in the room and was standing behind his dad. When we made eye contact, he started doing elaborate hand gestures and there was a touch of panic to his expression. I answered with a knowing nod. He didn’t have to worry. I wouldn’t tell Barry about him getting caught trying to sneak in the
L.A. 911
scene.

Jeffrey smiled with relief and then announced that he was going to bed. I went on outside and sat down. I heard the door open and click close and a moment later Barry set the mugs on the small round glass table. He settled into the chair next to me, pushing his legs out in front of him before stretching and flexing the leg that had been injured.

“It’s still stiff,” he said in a dispirited tone. He lifted the mug. “It’s so strange keeping regular hours. I don’t know what to do with myself.” He gestured toward the fence. I fixed your gate. It was dragging.” He mentioned a few other repairs he’d done. Barry could fix anything and one of my concerns when we broke up was that my house would fall apart. He drank some of the tea and commented on the interesting flavor before setting the mug down and turning to face me. “I just want to let you know I understand about the condo in Simi.” I was going to say something, but he continued. “I learned my lesson for next time. It was wrong to try to force that condo on you.”

An image came to mind as he was talking. A few months ago, Barry had this idea we should make a fresh start if we got married. Unilaterally he’d picked out a condo in Simi Valley he thought would be perfect for us. Thank heavens he hadn’t put a deposit on it because I wasn’t interested in moving so far away from my job and my friends. It had turned out to be the beginning of the end for us, anyway.

“You mean for you and Heather?”

“For me and whoever,” he said.

“Whatever,” I said, trying to dismiss it. I didn’t want to get into a discussion about his future romances or reopen talking about that condo. It was a little awkward, but I turned the subject to Kelly. “I remembered something that happened when I went over to Kelly’s that last time.” I told him about the doorbell and that I thought she’d said it was a real estate agent handing out something. “I was thinking that maybe it was somebody she didn’t want us to see, so that’s why she hustled us out of there so fast.”

“You said Adele was with you,” Barry said beginning to smile. “Maybe Kelly just wanted to get rid of you guys.”

“Maybe so,” I said. “But if there really was a real estate agent, they might have seen something.” I was thinking out loud. “The ones who have come by my house always leave a notepad of paper with their picture and information.” I thought about it for a moment. “I bet Kelly’s brother would help me look around their place.”

“The adorable surfer,” Barry said with distaste. His face slipped into cop mode and he seemed to be considering something. “Heather would probably dismiss your real estate agent tip because it came from you. . . .” His voice trailed off and he seemed to be battling with himself. “I need to get these cold cases taken care of and get back to my real job,” he said, shaking his head. “You didn’t hear this from me, but here’s something to think about. If a real estate agent stopped at the Donahue’s, they probably worked the whole area.”

I got his point. “Then they might have stopped at Dinah’s and the Donahue’s next-door neighbor.” I smiled at Barry. “Good thinking. Thanks for the help.”

“Don’t mention it,” Barry said. Then he rolled his eyes. “And I really mean don’t mention it. I don’t want it to get back to Heather that I helped you.” Barry yawned and mentioned his early morning. We got up to go inside. The tea and conversation had gotten rid of my wired feeling and sleep sounded good.

As I headed across the living room to my side of the house, Barry called after me. “By the way, I know all about Jeffrey,” he said. “I’m a detective, remember.”

Uh-oh.

*   *   *

I called Dinah first thing in the morning and asked her if she’d found a notepad or anything from a real estate agent left at her front door the day of the murder. While she was trying to remember, I told her why and who had suggested the line of thinking.

“Barry’s helping you now?” she laughed.

“I think it’s all about him missing his regular detective job, and he can’t resist getting involved.”

“And an excuse to spend time with you,” Dinah said. While we talked, Dinah checked various places in her house. “I don’t remember getting anything, but I could have just picked it up off the porch without thinking.” She said she would have tossed a brochure, but would have kept the pad of paper. “They come in handy for phone calls and writing down notes on crochet projects. I could have just stuck it somewhere.” I heard the clang of hooks hitting the floor. “Nope, not in my crochet bag.”

“The person might not have gotten as far as your house,” I said. “I was thinking about stopping by Kelly’s.”

“I’m in,” Dinah said. “Just give me a moment to throw on a scarf.”

I parked the greenmobile in the bookstore parking lot and walked over to Dinah’s. She was standing on her tiny porch, with a long, white gauzy scarf flapping in the breeze over an outfit in shades of olive green. Her salt-and-pepper hair looked perky with all the uneven spikes. She was down the steps before I opened the gate to her yard.

“Are we climbing in any windows?” my friend asked with a sparkle in her eye. “It’s so good to be sleuthing along with you again.”

“I was thinking we could just knock at the door and ask?” I said. “I’d rather go there when Dan isn’t home.”

Dinah nodded. “Right, we don’t want him to know we’re investigating.” As we walked around the corner and down the street we talked about Dan.

“Maybe he has two guns. The legal one he showed Detective Heather and another one he used to shoot Kelly. I’m betting that one isn’t legal. But what did he do with it and how did he manage not to have residue on his hands and clothes?”

“Maybe it won’t matter. If the real estate agent saw him and can place him there a while before he went running for Eric—”

“He’d certainly have some explaining to do,” I said interrupting Dinah. “But we don’t even know for sure there was really a real estate agent at the door.” By now we were in front of the Donahue house.

“What if nobody is home?” my friend said.

“We come back,” I said.

“Or we climb in a window,” Dinah said with a naughty look.

Before we walked down the short path to the Donahue’s door, I glanced next door at the Silvers’. The house was quiet for now and the driveway empty. A SUV was sitting in the Donahue’s driveway with a surfboard attached to the top. Stone opened the door before we could ring the bell, apparently on the way out. He was carrying a wet suit and a towel. His sunglasses hung from a cord around his neck and, as usual, he smelled like coconut suntan lotion. He seemed surprised to see us.

I broke the ice by telling him how pleased my bosses were that he’d agreed to the book signing. “I’m sure it will bring in a big crowd,” I said. Then I got down to why we were there and told him the story about the mysterious real estate agent and how they might be able to place Dan at the house before he’d said he’d arrived.”

“By all means come in and look around. I don’t recall seeing a pad of paper with a photo on it, but that doesn’t mean anything.” He led us inside and we looked around the living room and came up empty. “Maybe my sister took it into her workroom,” Stone suggested. “Anything to help nail Dan.”

I felt a little less unsettled going into Kelly’s workroom this time. The room looked different. There were things on the computer table I didn’t recognize from before. Stone explained that Dan was using the computer.

“Is he handling her online business?” I asked, but Stone shook his head. “All he cares about is his own business.” Stone helped us check every surface for one of those dollar-shaped pads all the real estate agents used as advertising. I even opened one of the plastic bins. I’d expected to see the neat skeins of yarn, but it was a jumble of twisted yarn, hooks and other paraphernalia. Stone noticed my expression. “It’s kind of a mess. Dan’s been going through all the bins like he’s looking for something.”

We did one more look around and then Dinah and I admitted defeat. Before we left, Stone pulled out a box from the closet. “I left some stuff with my sister when I moved to Hawaii. This might come in handy,” he said, handing me a publicity photo of him surfing. Stone walked us out and thanked us for trying to help before he climbed into Kelly’s SUV and headed for the beach.

I noticed a car was in the Silvers’s driveway now. “Maybe all isn’t lost. How about we pay her a visit.”

Nanci Silvers seemed surprised to see us and hesitantly invited us in. I nudged Dinah when I saw the box of Orioles chocolate sandwich cookies by the door. She certainly dressed the part of PTA president. The beige linen shift and sandals with a heel gave her an air of authority. We all sat staring at each other for a moment and finally Nanci asked if there was a purpose to our visit. Dinah and I’d had no chance to discuss our strategy. I was hoping to somehow naturally bring up the wandering real estate agent. I was winging it and remembered her fuss about the Donahue house being registered as a location. “Dinah wanted to know if you’re still collecting signatures for your petition.”

Nanci’s sharp expression grew a little vague. “Signature’s for what?” I reminded her about her previous concern and a look of recognition came over her face.

“It’s not an issue anymore. Once they shoot the one scene in the yard, the house won’t be used again. Dan took it off the list.”

“I guess you know him pretty well,” I said, pointing at the case of Orioles cookies. Nanci suddenly got that deer-in-the-headlights look. “Ah, it’s a donation for the first bake sale of the season.”

“Bake sale? Whatever happened to homemade baked items?” I said remembering all the platters of chocolate chip cookie bars I had made for the bake sales when my sons went to Wilbur Elementary.

Nanci flicked something off one of her nails and leveled her gaze at me. “Nobody bakes anymore, or cooks, either. I know I certainly don’t have time.” She seemed to be getting impatient with us and I was afraid she was going to show us the door, but we were saved by the bell. Her cell phone rang. As soon as she answered, she made an apology and went into the other room.

“This is our chance to look around,” I whispered to Dinah. We began to check the various surfaces in the living room. There was a stack of mail on a stand by the door. I went through it quickly, thinking the pad could have gotten mixed in with it. “Dinah, look at this,” I said in a loud whisper. I held up an advertisement that pictured some fancy guns with the headline “Life Is Too Short for an Ugly Gun.”

Dinah’s eyes got wide when she read it, but then she took me over to the wall and pointed out a photo of Nanci and a man, both holding rifles and smiling. There was some kind of certificate below it for skeet shooting.

Both of us noticed the cream-colored crocheted wrap sitting on the edge of the sofa.

“Sorry, for the interruption,” Nanci said as she came back in the room. Dinah and I dropped back into our chairs with a thud. “Was there anything else?” Nanci asked. I noticed that she didn’t sit down, a definite sign she was looking to end our visit.

“Dinah was just saying that here she lives barely a half block from you and doesn’t know anything about you.” I smiled innocently. “So, are you married, divorced or what?”

“I’m married, but you probably haven’t seen my husband,” she said directing her comment at Dinah.” He’s the sales manager for a manufacturer up in Chatsworth and he’s on the road most of the time.”

“What do they manufacture?” Dinah said. I knew she was trying to keep the conversation going until I brought up the real estate agent.