Hooked on Murder: A Crochet Mystery

and gave it a tug, showing off its stretchy quality.

'Try that with your crochet.' She held up Dinah's half-donewashcloth and pulled on it. It barely stretched. 'Knittingis the in thing now. Everybody is doing it. It's hip, it's cool, it's now,' Trish said defiantly.

Adele shook her head haughtily. 'Crochet makes a betterwashcloth. It's sturdier, with more surfaces to scrub with.'

'Yeah, but it takes more yarn,' Nicole threw in, and then went off on the proud history of knitting. I held my breath, afraid she might know about crochet's past and bring it up. I'd looked into it to write a little piece for the newsletter, and it wouldn't exactly help Adele's cause. Though I could never find out exactly how or when crochet had begun, it was how imitation lace had been made in the 1800s in Europe.The real stuff was only available to the very wealthy, and apparently they weren't happy when regular folks started showing up with what looked like fancy lace. The rich people put down the crocheted lace as something only a common person would wear and further besmirched crochetitself by saying it wasn't on the same level as knitting and other needlework. It seemed as though Adele had it right about crochet's being the poor stepsister. But luckily Nicole didn't seem to know, and ended by holding up her turquoise scarf triumphantly.

The rest of us watched, aghast, as Adele continued. CeeCee even called out to her, 'Dear, I think you're a little over the top.' But it did no good.

'So what, when you can do this.' Adele showed off one of the loopy crocheted flowers ready to go onto her square. And then she went for her grand finale, dangling a lacy crochetedsnowflake she had pulled out of her bag. It was all dainty white string and pretty amazing looking.

'I'd like to see you knit this,' Adele said. Her beanie was on the small side, and her head big. Little by little the beanie had been inching its way higher and higher, and now looked like a gumdrop had landed on her head.

Nicole was already packing up her designer tote, mutteringsomething to herself about how maybe the other group was better for them after all, since they knew the truth about knitting. Trish followed suit and the two left in a huff.

Adele smiled victoriously. She had kept our crochet world pure.

CHAPTER 8

I didn't mean to be late for the tarzana Hookers' meeting at the Sheridans' house, but it was a lot different from joining them at the bookstore. There, I could just take a break from my work when they arrived, but leaving to go somewhere else was much more complicated. First, I had to cashier because Rayaad was late coming back from her break. Then there were a bunch of last-minutephone calls, and as I was walking out, one of our regular customers stopped me and tried to sell me on havingweekly seances at the bookstore. When I finally pulled up to the Sheridans' house, Dinah was waiting out front.

Natalie answered the door and looked uncomfortable when she saw us.

'There's a little problem,' she said in a whisper as she stepped outside. 'Lawrence hasn't left yet. Now, I have no doubt that you had nothing to do with Ellen's death, but he seems to be fixated on it. He was very specific about not wanting you here.' It wasn't the collective you, either. There was only one you she was talking about, and it was me.

'I thought you said he wouldn't be home.'

'I thought he wouldn't be,' she said, appearing frustrated.'But he is. It is his house.' She scanned the inside of the home quickly, apparently looking for him. 'He has to leave soon. His dog has an appointment at the groomer's. I really need you to go now. If he finds you here, I'll get the blame.' She glanced behind her again. 'Too late, here he comes. Hide!'

'Hide? Where?' I looked hopelessly around the yard. Dinah pointed me toward a large bush that grew next to the house, and without taking a moment to consider the absurdityof late-fortysomething me having to hide from a neighbor, I went for it. I had barely squeezed behind the scratchy branches when Lawrence marched out the front door with his small black poodle in close pursuit. By peekingbetween the leaves, I managed to get a clear view.

Lawrence stopped between Dinah and Natalie. He looked like a graying giant next to my petite friend, and he wore his usual arrogant expression.

Dinah smiled and started to say hello, but he totally ignoredher and turned to Natalie.

'Is she one of the crochet women?' he asked, and Dinahstiffened at being talked about when she was standing right there.

Natalie nodded and started to introduce them, but Lawrence cut her off by walking away. The man had turned rudeness into an art form. Only when he'd gotten halfway to the garage did he realize that the dog was still on the step. The poodle looked like a roly-poly little black sheep and was definitely in need of a trim.

'C'mon, Felix,' Lawrence cajoled, holding up a leash. 'Daddy's little boy is going to get a bathy-wathy and a hair-cut.' The dog sat down. Lawrence tried a few more versions of doggie baby talk, but the poodle didn't move. Then Lawrence changed his tone to that of a dog trainer. 'Felix, come,' he commanded, but Felix merely looked the other way. As a powerful manager/TV producer, Lawrence could make people jump, but apparently not his dog. Finally he retraced his steps, slipped the leash onto Felix and gave it a little tug as he headed back toward the garage. Now the dog ran every which way, winding the leash around his master's legs, almost tripping him. Just as Lawrence got it all straightenedout, Felix's eyes focused on the bush where I was hiding,and he started barking. Lawrence tried to keep going, but Felix wouldn't give up.

I cringed, sure that any second Lawrence was going to notice that the bush had some khaki slack branches. I searched my mind for some excuse, any excuse, to explain why I was back there. A lost contact, perhaps? Then I hit possible pay dirt. Maybe I could distract the dog.

Before work, I'd been trying to teach Blondie to give her paw. It's really a stupid trick, but cute. To help with the training, I had been giving her treats if she made any move with her foot. I still had a pocketful of liver pops.

I lobbed one toward the dog, hoping it wouldn't bop Lawrence. My sons never wanted to play catch with me, rightly saying I had no sense of aim. I missed Lawrence, but also missed the dog's scent range. Felix kept yapping, and Lawrence started peering into the bush. Frantically, I tossed another liver pop over the top. It sailed over Lawrence and landed at Felix's feet. He stopped the noise as he picked it up.

Lawrence noticed that the dog had gotten something off the ground, and he freaked, ordering Felix to drop it. The poodle looked up at him for a second, then must have realizedthat possession wins over a bossy owner's commands, and went back to chewing. Shaking his head with resignationand telling the dog he better not hear from the groomer that he got sickie-wickie, Lawrence finally continuedon his way to the garage.

If I had to hear any more doggie baby talk, I was going to be 'sickie-wickie' and was grateful when Lawrence's black Bentley pulled out of the garage and the door rumbledshut.

I brushed off some twigs and a stray spider as Natalie ushered Dinah and me inside. She left us, saying she had to get something from her car.

'Money and power be damned. You're right about him belonging to the life's-too-short department,' Dinah said. 'Even with the points he gets for being nice to his dog, he still rates below my rudest freshman students.' She wasn't about to get any argument from me.

We both automatically looked back toward the living room, where Ellen's body had been, and had a communal shudder. I caught a whiff of a faint fragrance I couldn't define.It gave me an instant headache--or maybe it was from being back in the murder house.

Dinah and I had already come up with a plan to make the most of my visit. The day of the funeral, when I'd tried looking around the house, I hadn't known what I was lookingfor. This time I had a goal: Find Ellen's date book.

'So, the plan is, I cough twice if someone is coming,' Dinah whispered.

'I thought it was cough once,' I said, rubbing my temples,trying to lose the headache.

'No. Remember, we said one cough could just be a rogue cough by someone else in the room. To be on the safe side, I think we should go with cough three times,' Dinahsuggested.

The whole crew was in the crochet room. CeeCee and Adele were sorting through things in plastic bins. Sheila was going back and forth in a rocking chair. Meredith was checking out a shelf of crocheted teddy bears I had