and answers that sounded good, but really said nothing. Ryder somehow got in the middle of it.
“If you want to know about the Perkins, check out my YouTube piece ‘Life and Death in Tarzana,’ ” he said. Mason made points with him by actually paying attention to him.
Mason ended the media encounter by wishing them all happy holidays and walking across my lawn to meet me. “That should keep them satisfied and they ought to leave you alone.” He held up his leather tote. “Thanks for helping at the last minute. I’ve done something wrong, but I can’t figure out what.”
It was a relief to get inside away from the circus. Though hardly quiet inside. Cosmo was parked in the window barking at the reporters. The cats were stationed on either side throwing in an occasional weird meow. Blondie was silently watching from across the room. I closed the shutter on the big window and Cosmo gave up. I asked Mason why he’d deflected the question about me being one of the hikers.
Mason’s smile evaporated. “It’s information they don’t need to have.” Then he gestured his head toward the Perkins’. “Any more visits?”
“No,” I said. “The more I think about it, I might have overreacted. It wasn’t as if she actually picked up a knife and when I realized there wasn’t any blood on her clothes ...”
“Molly, you’re looking at her the way all these people who gave Bradley money looked at him. It’s the idea that someone you know couldn’t have done something bad. It works with my celeb clients, at least most of the time. They’re familiar faces so people find it hard to believe they did something awful.” Mason made a point of locking the door after I’d let the dogs have their yard run. “It’s better to be safe than sorry,” Mason said.
Mason made some comment about missing dinner and wondered if I had as well. I let go of my plans for ice cream and a movie and said I’d cook something. He followed me into the kitchen. I’d heard of being able to feel someone’s eyes staring at your back, but I could feel his smile. I’d never cooked anything just for Mason.
I suggested he get Spike’s sweater-in-progress and show me where he was stuck. When he showed me, I wanted to laugh. He’d made a mistake and was trying to rip out a row, but the yarn had snagged and stopped coming free. Fixing it amounted to a little tugging and separating two pieces of yarn. I handed it back to him and suggested he sit in the built-in booth and work on it while I cooked dinner. If he ran into another problem, I’d be there to help. He looked too pleased as he slid onto the wooden bench.
“You ought to keep your cell phone out,” Mason said. My tote bag was sitting on the bench where I’d left it when I came in. Mason reached for it but plucked the owl-in-progress out instead. “What’s this?” he asked. I mentioned the elephant I’d made and how I wanted to make another toy to add to the things we were sending to the shelter.
“A snow owl?” Mason said, holding it up. For the first time it registered that the head was sparkly white and the body sparkly black. I pulled out the pamphlet with the pattern and looked at the photo of the snow owl on the cover. It was all white. When I went to check the pattern I realized the pages between the snow owl and penguin had gotten stuck together and in essence I had put a white head on a black body. I said something about having to unravel it, but Mason stopped me with a grin. “Keep it. I think you might have come up with something. You know it almost looks like a vampire.”
I started to protest but then realized he was right. I was as bad as the rest of them with vampires on the brain. I set it down, deciding I’d figure out what to do with it later.
“The BlackBerry isn’t in there anyway,” I said as I took out some dry penne noodles and put water on to boil. I poured a bag of cut-up vegetables in the olive oil and garlic I’d been heating on the stove. As they began to cook I poured in some bottled marinara sauce and the kitchen filled with tasty scents.
“I want to thank you again for it,” I said. As soon as I’d added the pasta to the churning water, I pulled out the smart phone from my purse. “I’d really never hear it ring if it was buried in all that yarn. The camera function sure came in handy.” I looked at the screen and began to scroll through the pictures on it to show Mason. I got to the beginning of the photos I’d taken of Bradley. I meant to scroll back over them, but I hit the wrong button—like that was anything new—and a strange photo filled the screen. One I didn’t remember taking. I couldn’t even tell what it was at first. The whole frame was sand colored. I kept trying to make sense of it, and suddenly I remembered how I’d fumbled with the phone while Dinah and I were trailing Emily. In all my accidental button pushing, I’d done something right. I’d ended up taking a photo of the sandy road and captured the freshly made track of the mountain bike that had just whipped past us. I smiled and actually jumped up and down.
“Let’s see the picture that’s making you so excited,” Mason said. He reached for the phone, but I held on to it.
“It won’t mean anything unless I explain.” I described the mysterious biker and my idea of being able to identify him or her by the impressions of the wheels. “For once my lack of nimble fingers paid off,” I said after telling him about our trip back up to Dirt Mulholland.
The pasta bounced around in the boiling water, sending a spray on the stove. The sputtering sound got my attention and I went back to check on dinner. The penne was done, so I drained it and poured it into a bowl. A little toss with olive oil and I mixed in the sauce. While I told Mason my thought that the biker could be the murderer, I made a quick salad. He helped me bring the food and plates to the table and we sat down to eat.
Mason liked my idea about matching the tire impressions and wanted to know if I’d come up with any suspects.
“I know that both Logan and Nicholas have mountain bikes and both had reason to be angry with Bradley, though Logan seems to have a lot more reason. I’d include Joshua Royal if I find out he has a mountain bike. I think he might have done it to avenge Mrs. Shedd’s big loss. And then there’s anyone else with a mountain bike that lost money with Bradley.”
“It sounds like it could be a lot of people. I don’t mean to rain on your parade, but how are you going to get a look at all these mountain-bike tires?” Mason said. He began eating and barely had finished a bite before he said how good it was. Mason ate in the finest restaurants, but sometimes there was nothing that matched a home- cooked meal.
I heard a noise in the front door lock before it opened and closed. A moment later Barry walked in the kitchen, pulling his tie loose. He was sniffing the air. No way could you miss the garlic smell. He froze when he saw Mason and me at the table.
I didn’t like this part of being the prize. Both men glared at each other. I got the feeling things were a lot different when the two of them had dinner together. I pointed to Mason’s dog sweater and said he was in a hurry to finish because of the cold weather.
“I’ll just say two words,” Barry said, clenching his jaw. “Pet store.” Mason totally ignored Barry’s comment.
“I hope your people are keeping an eye on our girl,” Mason said, using his shoulder to point in the direction of the Perkins’.
Barry flinched at me being referred to as “our girl.” I think the only one who liked it was Mason. “I was hoping Heather would arrest the Perkins woman,” Barry said. “But the photographs of her with Perkins that Molly took aren’t enough to build a case on.” He directed his next comment at me. “Has she been over here again?”
“I already asked Molly, and she said the answer was no,” Mason said. Barry glowered at Mason.
“I don’t think it matters.” I brought up my doubts again that Emily had killed her husband.
Barry didn’t seem impressed with my reasoning about Emily’s clothes. “Don’t let your guard down, babe. Heather’s a good detective. She’s got good instincts. If she thinks Emily Perkins is the guy, you better believe she is.”
“Can’t you get some kind of protection for Molly,” Mason asked. Barry took off his jacket and hung it on the back door handle after checking that it was locked.
“I did. Me. I had to make some arrangements, but I can stay the night.” He set down the small satchel he brought when he stayed over. There was a moment of awkward silence, then Barry took out a plate and helped himself to some food and sat down at the end of the table. The next minute they started talking about who they thought was going to be in the Super Bowl.
Apparently, I was only a prize sometimes.
We all had ice cream for dessert. As we were finishing, Barry put a travel brochure on the table.
“I know you don’t like things being pushed on you,” Barry said. In the past, in what he thought was a romantic gesture, he’d planned a trip to Hawaii. I mean really planned, almost to the point of packing my bag. He’d just neglected to check with me first. We’d had a fight and spent some time apart over it. Barry seemed pretty stubborn and set in his ways, so it was encouraging to see that he could change. I picked up the pamphlet and
