CeeCee sprang into action as Nell got close to the table. “Get her a hook,” CeeCee demanded.
I’m not sure if CeeCee really believed crocheting was a cure for Nell’s condition or she just felt helpless and it was the first thing that came to mind. Either way, I wanted to help. Bob took off, saying he’d get more chocolate samples and a glass of water.
I still had Adele’s large turquoise hook and yarn in my pocket and offered it to CeeCee. She did a foundation chain and the first row of single crochets before pushing it in her niece’s hand.
Nell sank in a chair and CeeCee told her to start crocheting. Whatever objections to crochet Nell’d had before, she seemed to have forgotten them and followed her aunt’s orders. Sheila came and stood next to Nell and had her do yoga breathing in time to each stitch.
By the time Bob returned with the chocolate-covered ginger and a glass of water, Nell had relaxed her shoulders and Sheila didn’t have to coach her breathing anymore.
Nell set down the couple rows of crochet and took the chocolates and water gratefully. Everyone was staring at her. Rhoda couldn’t take the tension anymore and leaned toward her.
“So are you going to tell us what happened to you?”
Nell set down the glass and took a couple more of Sheila’s yoga breaths while we all waited expectantly.
She started with what happened to Robyn. Everyone had already heard the story at least once but listened again since it was obvious she needed to talk about it. “If that wasn’t bad enough, these detectives thought that I did it. Me. One of them was called Detective Gilmore, and she kept saying I’d feel better if I just told them the whole story. I did tell them the whole story—over and over. I got Robyn her latte and I went and got the special sweetener. They kept me in a room and keep asking me again and again if I’d poisoned Robyn. I kept saying no, but they didn’t believe me. They asked me about Robyn and I told them I didn’t know much about her. It wasn’t like she shared her personal life with me.” Nell stopped, as if considering something. “The only thing she ever told me was that her parents died when she was a kid. And the only reason she told me that was to point out how she’d had to get everything on her own, unlike me, who according to her, had gotten the job just because of Aunt CeeCee.” Nell’s voice had risen in anger as she got to the end and everyone at the table appeared uncomfortable. It sounded a little too much like she might have done it.
Suddenly it was as if she realized how she’d sounded and she collapsed on the table. “It’s lucky the cops aren’t here. They might have taken that the wrong way.” Nell sat up and appeared composed as she turned toward me. “I told Detective Gilmore that I knew you since you seem to have police connections.” Nell stopped and sighed. “She wasn’t impressed.”
The color had come back into Nell’s face. “After I’d told them for the zillionth time I had nothing to do with it, they finally let me go. Thank heavens she realized I was telling the truth and all that is over.”
I didn’t want to tell her, but I had a feeling it was anything but over.
CHAPTER 6
FOR ONCE I CAME HOME TO AN EMPTY HOUSE. SAMUEL had left a note. He’d taken care of the animals and had gone to play backup for some singer-friend. Cosmo danced out the door, and the little black mutt ran around the yard while I watered the flowers. Blondie finally joined us, though the strawberry terrier mix wasn’t quite as exuberant. Since it was dark, I made sure Holstein and Cat Woman stayed inside.
To say I was a little keyed up from the day was an understatement. And, well, the three red-eyes I’d had in close succession hadn’t helped, either. I thought I was immune to caffeine, but I guess all those shots of espresso had added up.
I ruffled through the refrigerator for something to throw together for dinner. Ha! I shook my head at its empty state, the result of having Samuel, Barry and Jeffrey around. Even what was there wasn’t really there. The milk carton had a few drops left in it. The package of Muenster cheese was down to the last two slices, and somebody hadn’t closed the package, so those two slices were dried up and inedible. I tossed both items.
It looked like it was going to be ice cream for dinner whether I wanted it or not. Except when I checked the freezer, all that was left of the ice cream was a spoonful at the bottom of the container of vanilla bean.
I was considering my options when my kitchen door pushed open, startling me. The dogs came in, followed by Dinah. She’d gradually been becoming more of an animal person and gave them both some affectionate rubs in greeting. When her kids were growing up, her idea of a pet was, at best, a goldfish.
“Karaoke night over already?” I asked and she nodded.
“Those seniors go to bed early.” She sighed deeply. “I’m sorry for rushing off before,” she said. Blondie left the kitchen, but Cosmo sat down to watch what was going to happen. Unlike Blondie, who was the Greta Garbo of dogs—she spent most of her time alone—Cosmo liked to be in the middle of the action.
“Commander had planned the evening and I promised to help.” She sat down at the built-in kitchen table. “This is all new to me.” Her salt-and-pepper spiky hair gave a little edge to her looks. She’d branched out in the scarf department now that she’d started making her own. Instead of long flowing fabric ones that tended to flap in the breeze behind her, she wore a long thin orange one she’d crocheted wrapped around her neck. It was a nice point of color over the beige linen loose-fitting top and matching pants she wore.
“No problem,” I said, checking the refrigerator again. “Adele was happy to step into your position of sidekick.” I turned toward Dinah and noted her hurt look. “I’m joking,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s okay, really.”
“No, it isn’t,” Dinah mumbled. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to adjust to being with someone I’m not always upset about?” I laughed and Dinah sighed again. “I don’t want to be the kind of person that throws over their girlfriend for a guy,” she said. “It was never a problem before. When I was involved with jerks, they were never around enough to get in the way.”
“Forget it. You’re here now. And there is nothing to eat in my house,” I said, pushing the fridge door shut.
The original plan was to go to the market, but Whole Foods was pulling in their outdoor display of fruit in anticipation of closing and Gelson’s was doing the same with their outdoor tables. There were other markets that stayed open later, but we decided to go to a restaurant. As we drove down Ventura, most of them were shut for the night, too. Le Grande Fromage was so dark I could barely see the sign. The only place still open was an Israeli place. We found a table and ordered their special array of salads and freshly made humus that came with a circle of hot bread.
I filled Dinah in on what had happened after she left, and she shook her head with concern. “Poor Nell. I agree with you. Just because the cops let her go doesn’t mean its over.”
“CeeCee’s worried, too. She pulled me aside before they left and asked—well, begged me really—to get Nell off the hook. I think CeeCee is concerned about her own reputation, too.”
“In other words, she wants you to find out who really killed the producer—what was her name again?”
“Robyn Freed,” I said. The eleven o’clock news had just started on the flat-screen TV that hung over the bar. The anchor went to a reporter in the field. I recognized the street outside the Wolf Brothers Studio. Now the street was deserted and dark except for the camera lights. It was so ridiculous how they had reporters doing live feeds from places where something
They went to tape, and suddenly it was daylight and audience members were trickling out of the exit. There was another shot of people loitering on the street looking at the line of police cars and an ambulance. This short scene kept playing over and over as the reporter continued doing a voice-over. “The woman was escorted from the show and details are sketchy, but apparently paramedics and police were called in.”
“Pandemonium?” I said. I started to go on about how ridiculous the newscast was but stopped to hear the reporter.
“Unconfirmed rumors said that Ms. Overton had been taken hostage by the crazed fan. We tried contacting the production offices, but they were being tight-lipped about information and would only say there’d been an incident.”
After they’d repeated the scene of the audience leaving for the umpteenth time, they finally went back to the reporter standing in the dark.
