thumbed through it. It featured a cruise with stops in lots of places with white beaches and clear blue water. On the back were a list of dates.
“You can think about it,” Barry said. I could only see Mason out of the corner of my eye. He didn’t look pleased.
“You should tell Barry about your theory that the biker is the real murderer,” Mason said before turning to Barry. “She has a picture of the tire tracks and everything.” I gave Mason an annoyed look. I knew it was useless to mention it to Barry and wasn’t going to. Barry lived up to my expectations.
“What?” he said. “I told you Heather is sure it’s your neighbor. You can’t go around asking people to see their mountain bikes.”
Mason packed up his dog sweater and I walked him to the door. “Let me know if you need any help checking tire tracks.” He chuckled and gave me a soft kiss on the cheek and thanked me for dinner.
Samuel came home a short time later as I was cleaning up the kitchen. My son heard the TV in the den and wanted to know who was there. It was hard to read his reaction when I told him it was Barry. He said he was tired and got himself a snack and poured out some cat food before going off to his room.
When Barry shut off the TV, he insisted on going through the whole house and checking every window and door. When he headed for Samuel’s room, I prepared for a scene. Barry stopped at the door and knocked. To my relief, he didn’t insist on physically seeing that all the windows in Samuel’s room were locked. Even better, he explained why he was concerned about everything being secure and left it at that.
Maybe there was hope we could all just get along after all.
CHAPTER 24
“COME IN, COME IN,” DINAH SAID IN AN EXCITED voice. I’d called her as soon as Barry left in the morning to tell her about finding the photo of the tire impressions and said I’d stop over on my way to work. Barry had sensed something was up and had been all cuddly and affectionate, trying to find out what it was. After his reaction I wasn’t about to tell him that I was going to pursue the mountain-bike idea. He gave up when his cell phone rang and he had to take off. Now that I was at her place, Dinah shut the door and we went into her living room. I had e-mailed myself the picture of the tire track and then printed it up. I laid the sheet of paper on the coffee table, and we both leaned over it. Seeing it enlarged made the imprint very clear.
“How lucky that you’re such a klutz with your phone,” Dinah said with a throaty laugh. The kids came in and wanted to know what we were looking at but lost interest when they saw the picture. It was only exciting if you knew what it meant.
The plan we came up with was we’d keep trying to find out who had a mountain bike, and then we’d try to charm our way into checking their tires. My cover story was that I wanted to buy a mountain bike for my son and needed recommendations from people who owned them.
We agreed we’d work as a team.
But sometimes opportunities just present themselves.
As was becoming the norm, the bookstore was buzzing when I got there. The store seemed very festive with the background holiday music and the scents of fresh pine and hot cinnamon cookies. After I dropped off my things in my cubby, I noticed that Elise was at the table in the yarn department. I was going to see how she was doing, but a commotion around the display of the Anthony books and paraphernalia grabbed my attention.
What was going on? So many people were crushed around the table, I couldn’t even see the display. Using my bookstore-worker authority, I pushed through enough to see what was up. In the center on the upper level was a copy of
Mr. Royal neared the table carrying something and the crowd parted. He set a sign down that read “Exclusive to Shedd & Royal” before he put out a handful of plastic bags. A strip of paper in gothic type said “Vampire Scarf Kit.” Before I could take one to look at it, five hands had reached out and snatched them.
“What are those and where did they come from?” I asked Mr. Royal. He began by apologizing that they hadn’t talked to me first since they were really a yarn item. Elise had made them up and brought them in. Each bag had yarn, a crochet hook and Elise’s pattern for the scarf.
“We decided to put them out as a test,” he said.
“Looks like they scored a hit,” I said. Someone pushed between us and wanted to know if there were any more in the back. Joshua Royal explained that was all they had for now, but we hoped to be getting more in. The woman wanted to put a hold on three sets.
“Do crochet lessons come with the set?” she asked, and Mr. Royal looked toward me.
I quickly explained about our group and said we’d be happy to help her learn. Mr. Royal took her information and promised to set aside three sets when they came in. She walked away, saying something about how having the scarf would be like having a piece of Anthony.
Mr. Royal handed me the paper with her order, saying, “The kits are your baby now.” He started to rearrange the books on the table and I realized this was my chance to question him. But how was I going to go from the scarves and the Blood and Yarn books to mountain bikes?
Luckily, he was preoccupied with the display. As fast as he’d stand a copy of the book on top of the stack, someone would come and take it. He turned to me. “I never would have guessed a vampire would be so successful,” he said while I struggled for the words to find out if he had a mountain bike. Finally I just started to babble.
“Those people are lucky they know what they want to buy,” I said. Mr. Royal pulled out a box of books from under the table and started to add to the stacks. “Me, I’m stuck. My son Samuel wants a mountain bike.” Joshua Royal nodded and made the right kind of noises to show he was listening. “It’s just there are so many kinds. I don’t want to get the wrong one. I wish I knew more about them.” I stopped to see if he’d respond.
“Why don’t you ask your son? He probably knows what kind he wants,” Mr. Royal said.
I struggled to come up with a response. “You’re right, that’s a good idea, but I wanted it to be a surprise. If I ask him, I’ll be tipping my hand.”
He suggested I might want to check online. It sounded like he didn’t have a mountain bike and I was going to write him off but gave it one last shot. “Mr. Royal, you’ve been everywhere and done everything. Somewhere in all that you must have ridden a mountain bike.”
He ran his hand through his shaggy multicolored hair. He had been everywhere and done everything. I’d heard he worked his way across the Atlantic on a freighter, operated the carousel at Tivoli Gardens, been a beer taster in Germany and a dogsled driver in Alaska. “I could tell you the kind I have, but it might not be right for your son at all. Where does he want to ride?”
My breath came out in a gush of surprise. So he did own a mountain bike after all. “He’d like to ride around here. Up in the Santa Monica Mountains.”
I hoped I didn’t sound as excited as I felt.
“Well, then one like mine should do fine. I’ll write down the make and model and leave it in your cubby.”
Now that he’d admitted to having a mountain bike, I almost wished he hadn’t. Mrs. Shedd had waited a long time for the happiness she’d found with him. I hated to think it might be over and that
“I know this would be something of an imposition, but I’ve never actually seen a mountain bike up close. Do you suppose I could have a look at yours?” He thought a moment.
“Sure. I’ll stick it on the bike rack and bring it in later in the week,” he said. I thanked him profusely but felt awful at the same time. I had just set him up.
I headed to the yarn area to talk to Elise. She was almost teary eyed when I told her how the kits had flown off the table and thrilled when I said we’d like more. “And as soon as possible. They make a nice gift item,” I said.
Elise was overjoyed. It was a bright spot for her when everything else around her had been going down the
