If Hooks Could Kill (18 page)

C
HAPTER
26

Neither Dinah nor I knew anything about guns, and even though Adele claimed to be good at the shooting galleries in amusement parks, she was clueless about the real thing. Since we had no way of telling if it was loaded, no one wanted to touch it. Carrying it with the chopstick seemed a little risky because the chopstick was one of those disposable kinds you get at the grocery store and seemed like it might break at any moment.

“The Pinchy-Winchy might work,” I said. Dinah had borrowed the device to pick up some icky stuff in the corner of her garage and still had it. She went off to fetch it.

I had thought of calling Detective Heather, but nixed the idea. Instead of thinking we’d helped her, she might consider our having the gun as tampering with evidence.

“This ought to be better than the chopstick,” I said when Dinah returned with the Pinchy-Winchy. I positioned the open claw over the trigger guard and let the claw hand shut. Carefully, carefully I lifted the Pinchy-Winchy and the gun dangled from it as I held my arms out so that the gun was as far away from me as possible. Slowly, the three of us headed for the greenmobile. Nobody wanted to take over holding the gun, so I got in the backseat and Dinah drove. Adele had gone from freelance detective to CSI expert and kept looking back to make sure I was dangling the gun, so it wouldn’t hit the seat and smudge the prints.

By the time we pulled into my driveway, I was sweating. Dinah and Adele got out first and then I slid out holding the Pinchy-Winchy in front of me with the claw gripping the gun. Dinah led the way to the house, opening the gate to the backyard and then the kitchen door. Adele took up the rear.

“Barry,” I called loudly as soon as I was in the door. I yelled his name again, and said I needed him. I heard footsteps and then he was in the kitchen. He started to take in the scene, but his eye went right to the gun. I guess even though it was hanging upside down, it looked like it was pointed at him and his face went pale.

I realized he was having an automatic reaction that stemmed from his incident with the shoplifter so I quickly moved the Pinchy-Winchy so the gun wasn’t pointing at him anymore. Before I could explain, Adele stepped in. “I found the gun that killed Kelly Donahue.”

“I thought you’d know what to do with it,” I said. Barry’s color had returned and while shaking his head with disbelief, he told me to lay the gun carefully on the floor.

While he moved closer and crouched next to it, Adele poured out her story of how she’d figured it all out and then checked North’s trailer, not mentioning that she’d broken in.

Barry sat back on his heels and asked me to hand him a knife. He used it to pick up the gun without touching it as he continued to examine it. The head shaking started again and this time it was accompanied by a laugh.

“North Adams might have killed Kelly, but he didn’t do it with this. Sorry ladies, but this isn’t the murder weapon. This is Jake Blake’s gun from the show.”

“What?” I said. “I thought you told me fake guns always had an orange plug in them. And how do you know what Jake Blake’s gun looks like?” I said. Barry suddenly appeared sheepish.

“Okay, I admit it. I watch
L.A. 911
.” He looked up at the three of us. “Just to see what they get wrong—which is just about everything.” Barry pointed out the gun was a .357 Magnum six-inch barrel. “Everybody knows his initials are engraved on the handle,” he said, showing us the engraved
JB
. “I said fake guns have a plug in them, but they can’t very well film them with a bright orange thing on the end.”

He got a bamboo skewer from the kitchen and poked it inside the gun barrel. When he pulled it out, an orange plastic plug was hanging off of it. He stared at the three of us. We got more head shakes. And then Barry’s gaze rested on me. “How do you manage to get in so much trouble?” I was relieved to see he said it with a smile. “I’m going to miss all the comic relief.” He looked at the gun still lying on the floor with the red and yellow handled Pinchy-Winchy next to it. “I hope you have a plan for getting it back where it belongs.” He started to leave the room. “Don’t worry. I didn’t see anything.”

I didn’t want my fingerprints on the prop gun, so I picked it up with a pencil and dropped it in a plastic bag. Adele was already backing toward the door. “I can’t go back there.” It wasn’t until she was outside in the yard that she realized her car was parked back by Dinah’s house and she couldn’t make a hasty exit.

“Cutchykins can’t know I had anything to do with this,” Adele said with a worried tone. “I’m not giving up my detective career, no matter what he says, but he can’t know about this.”

I drove us back to Dinah’s and as soon as I pulled in front of her house, Adele had the door open. She started to walk toward her Matrix, but then stopped and appeared to have a soul-searching moment before she turned back and rejoined us. “I can’t bail on you. We’re the three musketeers.”

As we looked down the dark street, we could see the night filming was still going on. It was hard to miss the tall crane with the bright light illuminating the area. I imagined Nanci Silvers grumbling in her house since the light probably was shining in her back windows as well. Eric was sitting atop his motorcycle facing away from us.

Adele had a plan. I didn’t really trust her plans, but we had limited time and she was the one who knew the lay of things and where exactly the gun had come from. It seemed that while Eric was guarding the north end of the street, no one was really watching the south end. We walked around the block past the Donahue house and Nanci Silvers’ and came around the other way. Just as Adele had said, it was all quiet on that end of the production. North’s trailer was parked away from the action in front of the middle school.

“This should be easy,” I whispered as we looked ahead toward the luxury RV dressing room. Adele pushed the plastic card toward me.

“I can’t go back in there,” she said sounding panicky. “If anything happens and I get caught, I’ll lose cutchykins.”

“Well, I can’t go in there,” I said. “If anything happens and I get caught, my son will lose a big client.”

Dinah grabbed the plastic card. “I’ll do it,” she said, wrapping her long scarf around her neck several times so it wouldn’t trail her. Adele gave her the details of how to open the door and where to put the gun and I handed my friend the plastic bag. Adele and I went back into the shadows and Dinah slipped quickly toward the door. I could barely make out her figure as she worked on the door. Then the shiny metal caught the reflection of a streetlamp as the door opened and closed.

I could feel my fast pulse throbbing in my neck and my mouth went dry. I kept my eye trained on the door, waiting for it to open and for Dinah to come out. Seconds turned to minutes and still the door stayed shut. Something was wrong.

“You can’t leave,” I said in a loud whisper. Adele had come out of the shadows and was looking down the street toward the filming zone. The lights were still illuminating the area, but the way everyone was milling around, it was obvious they were taking some kind of break. A catering truck had pulled up to the curb and was dispensing food. “Dinah has been in North’s trailer too long. We have to do something.”

“Not me.” She edged away, but I grabbed her arm.

“You just stay put and keep your eyes open, if somebody comes down this way, stop them. I don’t care what you have to do,” I said. She groaned with unhappiness, but followed my order.

“Pink, what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know, but I’m not going to leave her in there.” I started walking toward the trailer. I couldn’t worry about Peter and his client. Whatever happened happened, even if he never spoke to me again. I had to help Dinah.

I used a plastic coffee card to unlock the door and opened it slowly. It was dark inside. I stepped in and pulled the door behind me without making a sound. I heard Dinah making psst sounds, then her hand grabbed my ankle. She was sitting under a table, still holding the plastic bag. I got on my knees next to her.

“What’s—” Dinah’s hand clamped over my mouth as she used the other to point toward the back. I could see a line of light coming from underneath a door and there was noise coming from inside. I took the plastic bag and pointed her toward the exit. I stood up and dumped the gun on the first surface I felt. Dinah was already out of the RV and I was about to follow when the door in the back opened and I was caught in a flood of light. North was standing wrapped in a towel.

“Hey there, stop,” he said as I tried to make a run for it. Here goes nothing, I thought turning back toward him. What could I possibly say? I opened my mouth, hoping something smart would come out.

North didn’t seem the slightest concerned that he was standing there almost naked. He looked me over and smiled. “I had a break and I thought I’d take a shower and freshen up,” he said gesturing toward the towel. He lowered his lids into his smoldering-eyes look and added a sexy smile. “I knew you had the hots for me. I knew it that first time you gave me the ride.” He pointed toward himself. “North is never wrong about women. Though I have to say, most women your age—well, they’re past sneaking in trailers. But no problem.” He gestured toward the couch.

Was he really talking about himself in the third person? I smiled demurely as I backed away. “You’re right. That’s it. I’m here because I think you’re so hot. But I really can’t stay. I shouldn’t have come. It’s so wrong.” I was babbling now as I moved closer and closer to the exit. He followed me and urged me to stay, but I was out of there in a flash.

Dinah and Adele were waiting for me and the three of us clasped hands and ran back the way we’d come. We were laughing and talking, all a product of our nerves. By the time we were passing the Donahue house, I had a pain in my side and we stopped to catch our breath. We just missed getting hit by a car pulling into the driveway. Dinah pulled Adele and me into the shadows as Dan got out of the driver’s side. He opened the trunk and took out a box. I was going to say something to him, but instead of walking toward his house, he headed for Nanci Silvers’.

The three of us watched as she opened the door and he went inside.

What was that about?

C
HAPTER
27

When I finally checked my BlackBerry, there were a bunch of messages from Mason. Needless to say I was pretty wired after all the business with the gun and then the run-in with North in his trailer. I was pretty sure having North think I was some kind of aging groupie wouldn’t cause him to fire my son as his agent. At least I hoped so.

All it took was a call to Mason and he was ready to help me unwind. “I was just going for a late-night swim. It sounds like just what you need,” he said.

It sounded perfect and I agreed. He was waiting with his front door open as soon as I pulled in front of his house and greeted me with a warm hug. “I’m so glad to see you.” He was already wearing his red trunks. “But we could always go skinny-dipping,” he joked, well, sort of joked. Maybe there was some wishful thinking going on.

I changed into the bathing suit I kept at his house and we went out into the dark yard. Spike looked at us like we were nuts and climbed up on the leather couch and went to sleep. Mason’s backyard was dotted with little lights and was magical at night. The water was warm from the sun and felt refreshing as we slipped in. For a few minutes we swam back and forth and then hung by the side talking.

I began to tell Mason about my evening. He started laughing when he heard the story about the gun. “I wish I could have seen the detective’s face when you walked in holding the gun with the Pinchy-Winchy. I hope he at least cracked a smile. He’s usually so serious.”

“Don’t worry, he laughed,” I said. “He seems to be loosening up a bit. I think the whole experience of being shot and being off work has affected him. He never would have sat outside drinking tea and talking before. Or if he had, he would have gotten a call in the middle and had to leave.”

“Don’t get your hopes up, it’s probably not permanent,” Mason said.

“I wasn’t thinking about that. We’re done. Once he moves back home, I’ll probably never see him. If nothing else, Detective Heather will make sure of that.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Mason said with a little shiver. “Let’s move over to the whirlpool.” He helped me out of the pool and we walked over to the tub of churning hot water. It was surrounded by jasmine and gardenia plants and the air was filled with fragrance. I noticed that Mason had started rubbing his temple and I asked if he had a headache.

“Yes, and her name is Jaimee,” he said. He climbed into the tub and helped me in. “We’re running out of time. We still don’t have a location for the wedding. She is impossible. Pretty soon, it will end up being a weenie roast at the beach.” He looked at me with a tired smile. “I’d rather hear about your sleuthing.”

I finished the story about the gun and Mason got a good laugh about the episode in North’s trailer.

“Maybe the gun wasn’t the murder weapon, but he’s still lying. Why wouldn’t he admit to knowing Kelly?” I said.

“Just a guess, but it sounds to me as if he’s trying to keep himself from being a suspect. If he doesn’t admit to knowing her, how can he be accused of killing her,” Mason offered.

“Barry’s right. Detective Heather would never check out North based on anything I said. Besides, she still only has eyes for Dan. She ought to check out Nanci’s house. Maybe the murder weapon is there.”

“You should tell her,” Mason said.

“Right,” I said with a laugh. I told him it looked like there was trouble in cutchykins land because Adele’s motor cop boyfriend didn’t want her playing detective. “Good luck on that one, Eric,” I said with a knowing shrug. “Nobody tells Adele what she can’t do. I know that firsthand.”

“I love hearing about your life.” Mason grinned and then pulled his hand out of the water. “I don’t know about you, but I’m turning into a human prune.” We got out of the water, went inside and changed back into our clothes.

“Since you seem to like tea so much,” Mason said when I came back into his den. He gestured toward the elaborate tea setup he had put out. No tea bags for him or grocery store tea. Instead, a cast-iron pot brewing a special oolong tea sat over a warming candle. There were handleless cups from Japan and a plate of bakery cookies. When the tea was brewed, he poured us each a cup and we sat together on the couch.

There was a certain amount of tension, for me, at least, as we sat next to each other. We were two consenting adults, both free and clear, but still something was holding me back from giving myself fully to our togetherness. There was nothing like a little crochet to get past a nervous moment. I rummaged around in the tote bag I was still using for a carryall and pulled out a hook. I went back in for something to use with the hook and a plastic bag stuck to my hand. I recognized it as the bag Adele had pushed on me when she found it in the bin of Kelly’s crochet pieces. I noticed there was a small ball of yarn in the bag and went to take it out. There were some folded sheets of paper that came out with it. I gathered them up, unfolding them as I did. Several of the papers were from a yellow legal pad and had some notes and diagrams on them. Another piece of paper floated free. I laid it on my lap and recognized what it was right away. I had one just like it. It was an invoice for a storage locker. A small plastic bag with a key inside was stapled to the back.

I showed it to Mason and explained what it was. “I wonder why Kelly had a storage locker?” I said.

“Probably for the same reason you do,” he said.

“I got mine when Barry moved in and I had to clear out the space.”

“Right,” Mason said. “She probably had stuff she didn’t have room for in her house.” I pointed out that both the locker number and the key were there.

“Are you saying you want to see what’s in it?”

“She did give the bin this was in to us. So, it isn’t like it would be breaking in or anything.”

“Do you want to go now, tonight?” Mason said.

“There’s twenty-four hour access.”

“Sure. Let’s go. I’ve missed not being part of your investigation,” Mason said, looking enthused. “It’s certainly more fun than finding wedding locations for Jaimee to nix.”

Mason took Ventura Boulevard instead of the freeway. We had the street to ourselves as we passed closed businesses and dark apartments. It seemed like the whole Valley was set on mute. Mason pulled his black Mercedes into the parking lot of the storage place. I was glad that he parked far away from the only other car in the parking lot. Could it belong to someone living in one of the units?

Basically, there were four rows of low buildings with identical blue garage-type pull-up doors. There were lights on the end of each building, which made for lots of shadows, but not much help in seeing. I regretted not having a flashlight. Mason had a small one on his key chain.

The buildings all looked the same and we finally realized there was a sign on the end of each with the locker numbers on it. We found the row hers was in and went down the wide walkway between the buildings. There were lots of dark shadows and I was glad I hadn’t come there alone.

Mason pointed the tiny pool of light from his flashlight at each of the numbers next to the metal roll-up doors. “Here it is,” I said pointing to one in the middle of the row. I had him put the light on the padlock. The light caught on a spot of reflective paint as I felt for the key.

“Well, this is it.” I put the key in the lock and when it came free, Mason lifted the door. The only light source we had was his small flashlight and little ambient light from the fixture at the end of the row. It smelled a little musty as we stepped inside and a herd of large black shiny bugs skittered through the light beam.

Mason flashed the small light around the inside of the locker. There were some odds and ends of furniture. I noticed a wood headboard and a dresser, along with several chairs stacked on each other. There was a small round table with a box on top. I reached for it, but Mason stopped me. “Fingerprints,” he cautioned, handing me a pen. I used it to open the flaps as Mason put the light on it. I yelped when I saw the contents.

“More of the bugs?” Mason said, lifting his free hand, prepared to do battle.

“No creepy crawlers,” I said showing him the inside of the box. “But those are the pins and little toys Kelly gave us for the sale. Well, they were almost pins. She hadn’t put the pin backs on. But that’s not the point. They were in the cabinet at the bookstore and stolen by the shoplifters.” I used the pen to ruffle through the flower pins. “The felt backs seem to be coming apart. I don’t remember that from the first time I saw them.”

Mason examined one. “More vandalism or do you think there was something hidden inside of them?”

“What would she have hidden in them? I guess we’ll never know, but the point is, how did they get here?” I used the pen to open the top of a large box sitting on the ground. Mason trained the light where I was looking. I saw the top of a leaded glass shade and stared at the pieces of blue and green glass for a long time, wishing I could see the whole thing. “I’m almost positive this lamp was in Kelly’s room. The lamp I’d noticed was missing after her murder.”

I checked through more of the cardboard containers and found an assortment of bric-a-brac. It all appeared to be nice stuff. When I opened the last box, my breath caught. There was more bric-a-brac, but in the center I noticed a gun handle. Mason saw it, too.

Both Mason and I knew better than to touch it and we both began to back away toward the entrance.

“Who else do you think has access to the locker?” Mason said.

“There was only one key in the bag. You always get two with a lock. The obvious answer is Dan,” I said.