Hooked on Murder: A Crochet Mystery

'I don't think so,' Sheila said, gazing intently at the actress.'Because Ellen got that tone of hers. You know, kind of like, don't cross me or uh-oh. And she said something about some information she had . . .'

'Oh, that,' CeeCee said, interrupting with her signature light giggle. 'That, my dear, was just good acting. Ellen was helping me with a part I was going to audition for. It was a TV movie called Laugh Till You Die. The log line was 'veteransitcom actress turns crime fighter'. Unfortunately Mar-ionRoss got the part.' CeeCee pointed at her work. 'Now, let's get crocheting. We've got a lot of squares to do.'

CeeCee was quick on her feet with that story, but I had a feeling it was just that--a story. So she'd wanted to leave Ellen. I wondered what kept her from going. Maybe the mysterious file had something to do with it.

Dinah and I sat together. It was still slow going for us. So far we'd finished only one square each that CeeCee found acceptable, and we were just beginning on our secondones. They were single crochet and not nearly as fancy as the ones the others were doing, but they would fill in some of the blank spots.

Sheila was ripping out her stitches. The royal blue square looked good to me, but CeeCee had pronounced the stitches too tight. CeeCee turned to Dinah and me.

'Remember, the correct gauge is essential, dears. That's the only way we can be sure the squares will all turn out the same size.' She took out a gauge measurer and showed us how to check ours.

Oops. Dinah and I started unraveling our second squares. We had gone too small.

'Hey, Pink, try this larger hook,' Adele said. I went to take the hook, but my eyes were drawn to the pink beanie she had just put on. She noticed me eyeing it.

'I made it. Isn't it great? And so easy and quick.' Adele angled her head model-fashion to show it off.

I was speechless for a moment. The hat was great, just not on Adele. Every time I looked at her, all I could think of was a soft-serve ice cream cone that had been dipped in that strawberry topping that hardened. It turned out Adele wasn't just modeling it, either. She kept it on and seemed to be makinga lot of extra gestures with her head to show it off.

I glanced over at Meredith, who was intent on her work. With her longish wheat-colored hair and fine features, she would look great in the beanie. But, then, she was the kind who seemed to look great in just about anything.

She was making another of the squares CeeCee called 'Ellen's flowers.' The middle portion was scarlet and looked like a flower; it was surrounded by a pale cream yarn with a lot of open spaces. The black border was more solid, and the effect of the three colors and the change in stitches was stunning. I noticed that even Meredith occasionallyhad to consult the pattern's directions, which made me feel a little less backward about needing to keep a sheet with the basic stitches in view at all times.

As always, Meredith was between appointments and had worn what she called her work clothes. The flowing white pants and loose top appeared comfortable, like they'd be easy to move in. She had added a lavender scarf and turquoise necklace in a casually artful manner. It was just the opposite of Adele's calculated look.

Rayaad came up to the table, with two women in tow. 'Here they are,' she said, pointing at us.

'Hi, I'm Trish, and she's Nicole,' the first woman said. 'We're thinking of joining your group.'

CeeCee, still trying to establish herself as leader, explainedthat we were making an afghan for charity, and then she invited the newcomers to sit down, as Rayaad left.

'Are you guys twins?' Sheila asked.

'Of course they're not.' CeeCee appeared distressed by the comment and gave Sheila a cease-and-desist shake of her head.

The women did resemble each other a lot, but I didn't think it had anything to do with family. It had more to do with their matching chin-length, deep mahogany color-enhancedhair and their matching, perfectly pert noses that had probably been sixteenth-birthday presents. Both, though clearly in their late forties, were missing any trace of a furrowbetween their brows, a giveaway that they'd been Botoxed. Ditto for the lack of crow's-feet. Trish and Nicole had pouty lips that shouted 'collagen,' and the way their mouths pulled a little too much to the side suggested face-lifts.Trish and Nicole were attractive and didn't have a wrinkle between them, but in the process they had lost their expressions and everything that made them look unique. Not that I was passing judgment. So far I'd done nothing to myself, but I'd learned long ago never to say never.

Trish said her husband was an orthodontist and Nicole's husband was some exec at Paramount, and both of them lived in Encino.

Unaffected by Sheila's comment, they sat down and set their designer tote bags on the table. Their megabuck bags must have felt like they were slumming when they ended up next to my red plastic one from Trader Joe's.

CeeCee began to introduce the group, but Trish's gushinginterrupted her.

'Omigod, you look familiar,' Trish said. 'I know, I know. It was that weight-loss commercial, right? Wow, you looked great in that black dress at the end. That herb powdermust really work.'

CeeCee nodded, not altogether pleased, instinctively tugging at her garnet velour jacket so that it came down a little farther. 'That was just a little something extra I did. I've done a lot of other work lately. You probably saw me as Aunt Tilda on Melrose Housewives.'

'Really? You were on that show?' Trish said. 'But it's the commercial I recognize you from.'

CeeCee ended the discussion by moving on with the introductions.There was no big response to Sheila, Adele, Dinah or me, but when CeeCee got to Meredith, Nicole started to gush.

'Omigod, you're that masseuse everyone is talking about. I have to have your card. Your instant massages are supposed to be magic. I heard you use special oil and some kind of healing stones.' She turned to Trish. 'Can you believethe people in this group? Who would have thought? At a bookstore, no less.' She turned back to the rest of us. 'We've been going to a group at a yarn store, but this is way better.'

'We'll just work on our regular projects this time, and start your charity thing next time,' Trish announced, takingout her work as Nicole did the same. Adele gasped and her beanie started doing a mad bobbing dance when she saw what they took out. Trish showed off a piece with iridescent white stitches, explaining that it was going to be a throw for her couch. Nicole held up a fuzzy turquoise scarf-to-be. It wasn't what they were making, but how they were making it that had Adele's beanie bobbing. Their work was on needles. Unaware of Adele's explosive expression, they laid out a whole array of supplies--counters, needle protectors, gauge things and stitch holders.

'That's knitting,' Adele sputtered.

'Yes, it is,' Trish said, patting her blanket.

I caught the label on Trish's yarn. It was cashmere. I'd seen yarn like that online, and it cost a fortune. She obviouslywasn't making things to save money.

'We're called the Tarzana Hookers because we use hooks, not needles. We crochet, not knit,' Adele said, puttingher hands on her generous hips, in full attitude mode. 'Otherwise we'd be called the Needle Heads.'

Trish rolled her eyes. 'Nonsense. It's always knit and crochet, with the spotlight on the knitting. Everybody knows that. Who ever heard of a group that just crochets?'

Trish's comments were like waving a red knitted blanket in front of a bull. Adele had gone total storm-cloud face now, and it looked as if her pink beanie was going to fly off.

'We may be the new kids on the block, since crochet isn't nearly as old as knitting, but we will not be treated like the poor stepsister anymore.' Adele raised her fist in a sign of crochet power, and you could practically hear some kind of anthem start in the background.

Trish picked up my finished square. It was orange with a black border, and all single crochet. 'This is what you're making such a fuss about? It's nothing compared to this.' She held up her fancy yarn blanket, which had some kind of repeated pattern.

Adele snatched my square from her. 'Lay off the square. She,' Adele went on, pointing at me, 'is just beginning. It's actually quite good for a novice.'

I thought my mouth would fall open. Was Adele actually giving me a compliment?

Adele grabbed a hook and a ball of green yarn. She quickly made a small foundation chain, then joined it into a loop. Her hook was really flying, and it was hard to make out what she was doing, but the end result was evident. She had made the center and two rounds of a granny square beforeI could blink. The stitches were even, and the combinationof spaces and double-crochet groups perfect. She held it up proudly. 'Do that with your needles.'

Trish picked up her blanket and began to knit at warp speed. She flew through a row, then held up her work