Hooked on Murder: A Crochet Mystery

imagined them as complicated to make and something I could never learn.

CeeCee had us all begin making the start of a square together.She made a short chain and joined it with a slip stitch, and we followed.

CeeCee poked her finger through the center to demonstrate.'This is where people get confused. They have a knitter's frame of mind. You know, stitches that go back and forth in rows, and if there's a hole, it's because you dropped a stitch. I think Adele may be a little too militant about it, but she's right. Crochet wins over knitting in my book, too.'

To start the next round, CeeCee told us to chain three, which would count as the first double crochet. 'Now make two double crochets in the ring,' she said.

We both looked at her, confused.

'This is the great freedom of crochet.' She yarned over and slipped the hook into the middle of the circle, yarned over again and made a double crochet. After having us make another double crochet, we chained two and made another section of three double crochets by going into the middle of the circle. It seemed to defy logic, and when I looked at my work, I couldn't see anything but a bunch of loops and couldn't understand how that was going to becomea granny square. 'Are you sure this is right?' I said, holding it up

'Have faith, dear. Sometimes you just have to follow the directions one stitch at a time for a while until you realize what you are doing.' She had us change colors for the next round, and I followed her directions of double crochets and chain ones and twos. We went back to the first color and added on another round. And so it went until we completed five rounds and she pronounced them done. I held mine up to admire it, but it looked lopsided. Dinah displayed hers, and it looked just like CeeCee's.

'Well-done,' CeeCee said to Dinah, looking at her work. 'Nice, even stitches and four good corners.'

After raving on far too long about what a perfect job Dinahhad done, CeeCee turned to mine.

'I'm sure you'll get in right in time, dear.' CeeCee took my sad crooked square and examined it. She pointed out how I'd skipped one of the sets of three double crochets in the first round. I didn't get points for making four corners in the rest of the rounds.

I know I shouldn't have felt this way. I am a mature woman with grown sons, but it took me right back to third grade, when we did needlepoint and Mrs. Krieger hung up everybody's but mine. As much as I had thought I loved crochet, I suddenly felt like it wasn't for me. Okay, and I was jealous that Dinah had done so well. It only looked as though she was gloating.

'But,' CeeCee said, pulling on the cotton yarn, 'the good thing is, crochet is easy to take out.' When she had taken my whole square apart, she handed me back a pile of two colors of kinky cotton yarn and had me try again.

This time I got it right, though my square did look a little loopy and wasn't as good as Dinah's. But when I held it at arm's length, the pattern was recognizable. For a moment I forgot all about dead bodies, book signings and being a possiblemurder suspect. I had made my first granny square.

We wove in the loose threads, and then we each had a nice washcloth to show for our trouble. Mine was never goingto touch water. It was getting framed and hung up, or at least stuck up with a push pin.

When CeeCee and the girls finally walked us to the door, she pressed some skeins of yarn on us, along with written instructions on how to make granny squares, and encouraged us to get busy.

I felt slightly dismayed as we got in the car. 'I'm thrilled about the granny square, but we zeroed out in the info department.'

'Not really,' Dinah said with a chuckle. 'We did find out she's got a thing for cake.'

CHAPTER 12

'THAT'S IT. I GIVE UP,' I SAID OUT LOUD, EVEN though the only one who heard me was Blondie. I examinedthe granny square again, trying to figure out where I'd gone wrong. It looked like a jumble of loops, and I couldn't pick out the individual stitches. The only thing I knew for sure was that one corner was smaller than the others. Blondie looked up when I spoke, and when she realized there wasn't a walk or treat involved, she put her head back down.

I had been staring at my work too long and felt all tense. There was no choice but to unravel it and start again. I only hoped that the other members of the Tarzana Hookers could work faster than I could.

The phone interrupted my efforts to stretch the kinks out of my neck.

I smiled when I heard Barry's deep voice. His schedule and mine had been at odds, and we hadn't seen each other for what felt like forever but was more like a few days. We hadn't talked much, either, because every time he called, it sounded as though Jeffrey was standing next to him. I half expected him to call me Mrs. Pink.

This time, however, it was clear that Barry didn't have a thirteen-year-old audience.

'Where are you?' I asked.

'Just leaving work,' he said evasively. 'I don't think you want a full description.'

'Actually, I do,' I said, but Barry groaned in response. He was getting used to my need to know. I had chipped away at his reluctance to talk and found out bits and pieces about him. Like that he'd grown up in North Hollywood and decided to go into police work when his parents' conveniencestore was robbed for the fourth time and the policenever could find the guys who did it. He took his job seriously and worked hard to solve his cases.

I had been able to find out very little about his ex-wife. He didn't bad-mouth her, and he seemed to feel that his divorcewas a sign of failure, though it sounded as though he'd gone above and beyond in trying to make it work. At her insistence, he'd given up his LAPD job and they'd moved back East to a rural area of Pennsylvania. He had ended up working for an uncle of his wife's, doing some kind of paper-pushing job that wasn't him. It had taken him less than a year to figure out that the job and the marriage were over. The one thing Barry and his ex had in common was wanting the best for Jeffrey, which apparently now meant his living with Barry.

'Since you're so hot to know, I just left the morgue,' Barry said at last. 'But now the reason for the call. You might remember that we have some unfinished dessert business from the other night.' If it were possible, there was a wink in his voice. 'And I happen to have a free evening.How about I pick up a pizza and we stay in?' His voice was heavy with suggestion.

It sounded appealing. Not only had I been hovering over the granny squares, but I had spent the day trying to make sure there were no problems with the upcoming authorevent. If Natalie was going to use it as a test, I wanted it to be perfect.

Thankfully, Debbee Stewart, the author of Hook Down the Pounds, seemed like a smart speaker. She was experiencedat being in front of an audience and had no demands beyond suggesting that, since she was going to do a demonstration,we have balls of string and crochet hooks availablefor purchase.

'There's just one problem,' I said to Barry. 'I already have some plans.'

Barry made kind of an oof sound. Like he was surprised,disappointed and maybe a little jealous.

'Samuel's playing tonight, and I thought I'd sneak a peek.'

Barry's sigh of relief was audible. 'So he invited you?'

'Not exactly.' That was an understatement. Samuel hadn't even told me where he was playing or when. But, when he'd gone through his old room to look for publicity photos, he'd left a copy of a schedule. The heading read VALLEY PROMENADE. Underneath, there was a schedule of days and times. Actually, what Samuel had said was that he didn't want anybody to come until he'd worked out the kinks.

But I was his mother. I didn't care if his act had kinks. I knew how much this meant to him. I explained to Barry that I planned to stay in the back and not even let Samuel know I was there.

'I'll come along, if it's okay. I really want to see you.' There was just a little note of disappointment that it wasn't going to be exactly the way he had in mind.

'What about Columbia-Jeffrey?'

'I can't control what he calls himself at school, but to me he is Jeffrey--plain Jeffrey--and he has a rehearsal.'

'So, then, you have to drop him off and pick him up?'

'Right. That was why I had the pizza-and-staying-in plan.' He sighed. 'It used to be so easy.'

'Lots of things used to be easy,' I said with a laugh, and told him he was welcome to come along. Barry said he'd pick me up once he'd delivered Jeffrey, and he hinted that we might still be able to work in 'dessert.'