I had seen inside Robyn’s house. The group had felt protective of Nell before, but now that she’d started crocheting with us, they were even more so. Everyone wanted to see her get her life back.
Dinah was a no-show. She had a freshman English class to teach. But the rest of us were working on one of Rhoda’s impatient crochet projects.
“Nobody is making a doll. I was just telling them about what I saw when I went into Robyn’s house. It isn’t about the dolls so much anyway, but what they mean.”
I had all their attention now. This was my big moment to bring out something I’d read about in
“The point is that Robyn’s house was utilitarian and sparsely furnished. Her office was similar, or at least I think so from what I saw in the box of her belongings. So why would she have a crocheted cactus in her office and keep a couple of worn-looking dolls in her house?”
“Because they meant something to her,” Elise said in her wispy voice.
“I can’t imagine anything meaning much to her,” Nell said. “She seemed hard and cold.”
“All the more reason those two things say something important about her,” I said. “And there’s something else to consider. The dolls look worn and seem like something from her childhood. The cactus appears newer and as though it was made for her office. Both of them had similar initials on the bottom, though I’m afraid I couldn’t read them. I think it’s safe to assume the same person made all of them, which means it’s somebody she’d known when she was a child but she was still in touch with.”
“Ooh, that’s good,” Sheila said. She had taken a short break from her job at the lifestyle store, Luxe, to join us. Even though it was literally the next store to the bookstore, it was hard for her to get to the group. Not that she couldn’t take off time, she didn’t want to. She’d had enough bad jobs to treasure a good one.
“Maybe it is someone from her family?” Eduardo said. His voice was so much deeper and masculine than the rest of ours, everyone did a little double take when he spoke. “My gran made a lot of toys for me.” The comment got an extra double take from Rhoda. She didn’t know Eduardo as well as the rest of us since she was relatively new to the group. You truly couldn’t judge Eduardo by his cover-model looks. He had learned how to crochet from the grandmother he’d just mentioned.
He’d been missing a lot of our get-togethers and seemed like he had something on his mind. When I asked him if everything was okay, he assured me it was. When I asked for details, his almost-too-handsome face broke into a broad smile and he said all would be revealed in good time....
“I heard Robyn’s parents died when she was young. Maybe she kept the dolls because they gave them to her,” Nell offered.
“I don’t think finding out who made the doll is going to be any help in finding out who killed her. I think it’s a waste of time,” CeeCee said. “You said she cut her boyfriend out of some photographs. Well, I still think he might have decided to cut her out of his life.”
Without missing a beat, CeeCee took out a box of buttons and spoke to her niece who had begun decreasing to make the flap on the envelope-shaped purse she was making. “Next, dear, you should think about what you’re going to use as a closure. The button choice can make or break it.” CeeCee took out a handful and spread them on the table. If it was up to me, I’d have voted for the silver heart with a design etched in black.
“Aunt CeeCee is right,” Nell said. “I bet her boyfriend is the killer.” Everybody looked at me.
“I’m working on it,” I said, hoping no one asked for details. I agreed finding his identity was important; the trouble was all I had reached were dead ends. I was relieved when Mrs. Shedd came by the table carrying a stack of books and broke the chain of conversation.
“I found some more books with a chocolate connection,” she said, setting them down next to me. “See what you think.” As she was about to leave, she commented, “There was some more of that graffiti on the signs for the Salute to Chocolate.” Both of us looked in Adele’s direction.
“I’m responsible for the kids’ department, not the kids,” she said. Mrs. Shedd didn’t seem happy with her comment. I started to get up to clean off the pen marks, but she said she’d already taken care of it.
I set down the cell cover I was making. It was my first attempt at impatient crochet and was actually for my phone. I thought the cream-colored cotton might make it easier to fish out my BlackBerry from the dark cave of my purse.
I looked through the books she brought and had to chuckle at the titles. I wondered how Tom Clancy would feel about
“Why did Mrs. Shedd give that to you?” Adele had backed off a little from trying to take over my domain as event coordinator, but heaven help anyone who touched anything related to the kids’ department. She repeated to the group that it wasn’t her fault if kids were marking up the signs in the store.
CeeCee was craning her neck to get a better view of the covers of the cookbooks. “Are you going to have samples?”
“Luxe is providing chocolate tea,” Sheila said. I was pretty sure that wasn’t what CeeCee was thinking about. I mentioned the exotic chocolate bars and that Caitlin’s Cupcakes was bringing in bite-size pieces of their vampire cupcakes.
CeeCee was practically drooling. The sweet tooth must have run in the family because Nell was gazing at the chocolate chip cookbook with a hungry eye.
“I don’t know why Caitlin doesn’t just call them Anthony cakes,” Elise said. She almost had a swoon in her voice as she said the name of the vampire known for his crocheting. I saw Rhoda rolling her eyes. She’d softened a little about the vampire character but still thought he was too foofie. Elise had been over the top about Anthony from the books, but when the movie came out, it had only gotten worse. Now she had a real face to put to the character. I had expected to hear that she was stalking Hugh Jackman.
I started looking into the bookstore, picturing how we should set up the chocolate festival so we could use it for the fake book signing as well. Someone walking through the area caught my eye. Barry? He was carrying a bag of something and looking for something. Me, maybe?
I left the table and walked toward him. As soon as he saw me, his face opened into a warm smile.
I was glad for the smile. Usually when he just showed up at the bookstore, it was because there was some kind of problem.
He held up the bag. “I brought lunch.” He asked if I could leave and suggested we take the food to the park. I must have looked surprised at his impromptu plan.
“I thought it would be fun, babe,” he said. “I had some time before I had to go to the morgue.” Fun and morgue so close together seemed a little odd, and Barry did sound like he almost choked on
Mrs. Shedd was okay with me taking my lunch break then. I left my crochet project and grabbed my purse.
The May gray clouds had burned off and the sun was shining. We went to the Los Encinos State Park, which was like an oasis in the midst of busy Ventura Boulevard. We ignored the old ranch house that had been turned into a museum and found a bench that faced the guitar-shaped minilake that was fed by a natural underground spring. The ducks and geese saw the promise of food and gathered around us.
Barry sat down with a sigh and I knew he was tired. It made me appreciate this gesture even more. He’d gotten wrap sandwiches and some containers of different salads that we shared.
“This is nice,” he said. He sat so we rested against each other. We passed the containers of salad back and forth, and I tossed bits of my sandwich to the visitors at our feet. After his initial comment, Barry was suddenly silent, which was like a neon sign saying there was something on his mind. It took a few minutes of listening to him breathe before he finally got it out.
“So, have you thought any more about the condo?” he said. He didn’t leave a space for me to answer, but described his plans for the place. The shelves he was making for my yarn would fit in the third bedroom. He would
