'What would he do with a bag of dog hair?' Dinah asked. 'Throw it on his carpet to see if his vacuum cleaner works?'
'Like he really does his own vacuuming,' I said, shaking my head at the mental picture. 'How can Detective Heather miss that Natalie is now running the publicity firm? I think that makes her look very suspicious. On top of which, she could have been Lawrence's overnight guest. Remember, she was there when we got to the Sheridans' house. And something is going on with CeeCee and her file. What if Ellen was blackmailing her with whatever is in it? Maybe the ransacking was a cover-up, but not the cover-up DetectiveHeather thinks.'
Dinah seemed confused.
'CeeCee could have thrown the stuff around in the livingroom as a cover-up, but the mess in the home office could have come from her trying to find the file,' I explained.'Too bad Detective Heather doesn't know what I know about the file. Maybe she'd investigate CeeCee.'
'Maybe you could start a rumor that CeeCee had the hots for Barry,' Dinah said, and I rolled my eyes.
When we finished our sandwiches, we parted company-- Dinah had papers to grade and I had Will Hunter's book to finish. I wanted to find out what happened when the tornado hit, and it was a lot better than thinking about Detective Heather's continued efforts to put me in jail. I dropped Blondie off at home and went back to the bookstore.
'LET ME TAKE YOU AWAY. . . .'
I jumped at the sound of the male voice, lost in Will and his brother's efforts to dig through the rubble and find their German shepherd. When I looked up and saw that it was Barry, I came out of my mental fog.
'From all this,' Barry finished, gesturing around the bookstore office. He took my arm and pulled me out of the chair. 'You're done here, right?' I glanced at the clock and noticed that it was well past the official end of my day. I nodded.
'Good, because I have plans. Jeffrey is at a drama club event. One of the other parents is going to bring him home, so my evening is free. I made reservations at Marceline's at Malibu,' he said, watching for my reaction. Marceline's was much more expensive than the usual places we frequented.Charlie and I had gone there often, but it had alwaysbeen a business-expense dinner. After letting the name of the restaurant sink in, he mentioned something about there being time for
'No talk of murder or bodies, or kids who change their name to something stupid. Just you and me and the moonlight,' he said, giving me his magnetic stare that was so hot, it made me blush.
I started to feel all warm and fuzzy at his romantic gesture;then I realized he'd done it again, just shown up with no warning and announced our plans. 'It sounds lovely, but you should have called. I'm not dressed right.' I pointed out my khaki pants, white shirt and black vest. Barry was wearing nice jeans, a soft beige T-shirt and a black sport coat. He looked great.
'It's the beach--it's casual,' he said, taking my hand. 'Have you seen the moon?' Before I could answer, he'd led me outside.
'Wow,' was all I could say when I saw the huge yellow ball lifting in the eastern sky. Barry held me against him and nuzzled my neck.
'It sounds really nice, but you can't just show up and expectme to go. I might have plans.'
'Do you?' he asked. 'You have some other guy hidden somewhere?' he teased.
I shook my head. 'Well, no.'
'There you go. You're free and I'm free. I know you like the restaurant, and getting a reservation there on the weekend--not going to happen.' He squeezed me close. 'So, get your jacket, and let's go.'
When I didn't move, he said that if it would make me happy, he would call in the future. That cinched the deal.
We dropped the greenmobile in my driveway.
'What's with the truck?' I asked, climbing in.
'It's a loaner. The Tahoe is in the shop,' Barry said, as we took off for the beach.
Marceline's at Malibu was an entertainment industry favorite,but far enough out of the way that it didn't attract many paparazzi unless word got out that somebody big was making an appearance. There were only two lanky guys with cameras hanging around the front when we arrived. They ignored us, and we went inside.
The restaurant was just above the beach; the inside was nice, but the outside was truly special and Barry got us seated on the deck. Though the evening had turned chilly, heat lamps offered islands of warmth and potted ficus trees strung with little white lights were placed among the tables to give the illusion of privacy. The host led us to a table next to two of the lacy trees.
As I was about to sit at the white-clothed table, I glanced through the greenery to the table behind us. I did a double take. There were three people seated around it, and I thought I recognized Natalie and Lawrence. Then I dismissedit: When you're thinking about pink elephants, you think you see them everywhere. Except that when I looked again, it wasn't my imagination: It was Lawrence and Natalie.There was no mistaking his thick graying hair and arrogantexpression, or her chin-length brown hair and big lips. Natalie wore a suit, which made me think it was a business dinner.
I didn't mean to stare, but I couldn't help myself. Barry followed my gaze, but since he'd never seen either of them before, he didn't understand my interest.
'What's going on?' he asked as I finally sat down.
He didn't look happy when I explained who our neighborswere.
'Maybe we should move.' He lifted his hand to get the host back.
'No way,' I said, pulling his arm down. 'Besides, all the tables are full.'
'Fine. Then just ignore them.' Barry opened his menu and began to study it. 'The filet sounds good.' He waited for some reaction from me. When I didn't say anything, he looked around his menu and saw that I had put mine down and was leaning back in my chair to hear what was going on. He waved his hand in front of my face and pointed at himself. 'You're having dinner with me, remember?'
I smiled and sat forward. He was right, and it was very sweet of him to spring for such a fancy place when it wasn't a business deduction. I picked up my menu and beganto consider the options.
I didn't mean to keep eavesdropping, but the wind carried their voices right into my ears. I kept staring at the descriptionof Fettuccine Marceline without it registering. The man with them was obviously a client of the public- relations firm. I knew the drill. When you were afraid of losing a client, you wined them and dined them and promised them the moon, whether or not you could really deliver. The man's cell phone rang, and he excused himself.
Once Natalie and Lawrence were alone, their conversationgrew more interesting. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that they were leaning closer to each other.
'We've come this far; don't fall apart now,' Lawrence said. Natalie took out a tissue and dabbed at her eye.
'You're right, L.S. I don't know what I would have done without you.' She reached for his hand, and I fought the urge to gasp.
Without realizing it, I was leaning farther and farther back in my chair. The front legs had left the ground. Just as I was about to go over backward, which certainly would have gotten their attention and everybody else's, Barry grabbed my arm and pulled me back.
'C'mon, Sherlock, let's order dinner.' He reached across the table and stroked my forearm, while reminding me of his plans for dessert. Nobody could say Barry wasn't good with his hands, and he got my attention-- temporarily, anyway.
Barry looked happier when he saw Lawrence and Nataliehead toward the exit after their companion returned. 'Now are you all mine?'
'Omigod, you should have heard what they were saying. Lawrence said something about her not falling apart becausethey'd come this far. And then she said she couldn't have done it without him, or something like that. And she grabbed his hand. You should tell Detective Heather what they were saying.' I stopped and checked his expression. 'Okay, that's not going to happen, is it?' Barry shook his head as an answer. 'Right. You can't get involved,' I grumbled.
The waiter brought the glasses of wine we'd ordered, and Barry proposed a toast that from now on our conversationshould exclude anything to do with Ellen's murder.
'It's kind of hard to drop the subject when Detective Heather is trying to find ways to make me look
