lights. The flowers took on a ghostly glow and seemed to be floating in space. There was more applause, but the crocheters didn’t leave the front when the lights came back on and Adele nudged me over. As usual, I was finding out I wasn’t in control of my own show.
Adele waved to Jym and Jeen and their group, then she motioned for Eduardo to come up. Jym and Jeen each carried a brown paper grocery bag. Adele described Mrs. Shedd’s commitment of crocheted and knitted blankets to be donated to the local shelter.
“Our boss isn’t a crafter, so she didn’t get that a weekend wasn’t long enough to make blankets in addition to the workshops,” Adele said. My, but she loved the spotlight. She had no problem making eye contact with the crowd. “What to do, what to do?” She surveyed the crowd, trying to build up suspense. “First, I whittled it down from blankets to one blanket, but even that didn’t seem possible until I came up with the perfect solution.” Adele walked over to Jeen and Jym. “I reached out to my knitting sister and brother and offered a solution. A perfect solution, I might add.”
Adele gestured for them to empty the paper bags while she continued on with a rising voice. “I forged an alliance, and we agreed to pool the blocks each of our groups had made and fashion them into one blanket that honored our yarn solidarity.” Adele paused as a cornucopia of knitted and crocheted blocks in all different colors tumbled out and the audience cheered. She threw out her hand and pointed at Eduardo, who held a strip of blocks he’d just finished crocheting together. He gave a humble nod of his head and the audience cheered.
“Okay, Pink, I got them all worked up. I hope you can keep the momentum going,” Adele said as the groups gathered up the blocks and exited the front.
I introduced Dinah and her writers. They’d all written fifty-word paragraphs about a summer memory and each read theirs. Because they were so limited by the word count, most of the pieces seemed to have a poetic quality. Dinah beamed with pride as they read.
CeeCee brought the actors to the front next, and they assumed their places. She stood off to the side, ready to prompt lines if needed, but in the short time Bennett had prepared them well. They knew their lines, and though they might have been a little too theatrical, the short play went well. Miss Lavender Pants stole the show by deciding to do her part with a Scottish accent.
Commander and his group came up last, and got applause for the evening’s events and everything else they’d put on as well. Everyone descended on the food table, and the buzz of conversation got louder.
“Did you taste the puffs Commander made?” Dinah said, holding a paper plate with a selection of the sweet and savory. When I nodded, she handed me one of the savory ones anyway.
“Wow, that man is a prize,” I said, checking for her reaction. Dinah’s perception of Commander Blaine had changed when she thought he might be a murderer. As soon as she thought she couldn’t have him, she seemed to say less about how finicky he was and more about his enthusiasm and ability to make everything into an occasion. I was afraid that now that he was out of the running to be a murderer, Dinah’s interest might wane. It seems to be human nature to want something when it’s unavailable and lose interest once it is. Dinah glanced over toward the table. Commander was putting out more food and encouraging everyone to help themselves. He beamed as compliments came from all directions. “Commander is a nickname he gave himself as a kid, and it stuck,” Dinah said. “He told me about it this afternoon. His real name is Sylvester. I’m going to keep calling him Commander, though. Sylvester sounds like some kind of weird synthetic yarn.”
I was going to comment that it seemed like they might have a future, but Commander got everyone’s attention and said the evening was going to end with a sing-along and marshmallow roast at the fire circle.
I held on to the rhinestone clipboard and followed at the edge of the group. Leave it to Commander. He had tambourines, castanets, maracas and bongo drums available. He took out a guitar and began playing camp songs. Some of the people helped themselves to instruments and played along, and others just took wire forks and marshmallows. I noticed Dinah was sitting at Commander’s side.
Mason found me and offered me a perfectly roasted marshmallow. “It’ll be nice driving back. We can make a trip out of it. We can stop for a late lunch at the Madonna Inn and maybe at a winery in Paso Robles. There’s always Solvang and Santa Barbara, too.”
I laughed. “And we won’t get back for a week.” Mason grinned. “What’s so bad about that?”
CHAPTER 27
THE MORNING WAS CHILLY AND OVERCAST, BUT the inside of the dining hall was bright with the buzz of conversation as the groups hung together for the last time. There was lots of hugging and promises to get something going back in Tarzana. Nobody seemed very interested in food. Commander Blaine had an envelope for each person that contained a coupon for his mailing center, the recipe for the puffs, and an e-mail list for the group.
I arrived late because I’d met Zak Landers in Izabelle’s room. Originally, I was going to pack up her things and arrange to get them to her ex, but there were other things to deal with and he’d driven up and was staying at a motel in Monterey. I had told him about Nora, and he’d gotten in touch with her. She was in the room, too, when I arrived. I barely recognized the woman who’d made the fuss at the airport. Her face was drawn and her expression troubled as she looked over her sister’s things.
She picked up a copy of her sister’s book and thumbed through it. She stared at the photo on the back as if it was still hard for her to believe that Izabelle was her twin. “I don’t want anything,” she said finally and walked out.
It was a little more comfortable when she’d gone. All I could think to say to her was that I was sorry, which hardly covered both her losses.
Zak had begun to pack up Izabelle’s things. He gestured toward the box I’d brought back from Adele’s workshop when she suddenly got concerned about clutter. “Let’s see what’s in there,” he said. I was going to tell him it was just samples of crocheted pieces, probably yarn, maybe some patterns and probably some hooks, but decided to go with the flow and just empty the box and show him the contents.
I dumped it on the bed, and sure enough some flowers fell out that had a double layer of petals, some more pouch bags with a slightly different design, some handouts with patterns for the bags. As I was separating the balls of yarn, I saw it. Izabelle must have thrown it in the box when she stopped in her room before she met Bennett. I held the white fuzzy choker. I could see Adele’s point: the white puffs did look like marshmallows. And when I turned it over, just as Adele said, there was a small spot of pink nail polish.
Zak said I could have everything in that box and the ones we’d brought back late last night. He had no use for crochet supplies. He did want to keep the manuscript and anything related to her fusion craft. I suppose he thought it might bring in some money. I mentioned he might be hearing from Spenser Futterman and left it at that.
He thanked me for my assistance and helped me take the boxes to my room.
Back at breakfast, Adele was hugging all of her people. I stopped next to her and put the choker on the table. She stared at it for a moment before turning it over. When she saw the pink mark, her lips spread in a relieved smile. She held it up and waved it around before going off to find Marni.
Mason was all smiles and waved me over. He already had a cup of coffee poured for me. I saw him look toward the door, and his mouth twisted in displeasure. I turned to see what had inspired his change of mood. Barry Greenberg had just walked in and was looking around. I didn’t care if I was working-I ran over and threw my arms around his tall frame.
“What are you doing here?” I said.
He seemed at a loss and just mumbled something about he’d decided to pick me up.
“You drove six hours to pick me up?”
“I missed you, what can I say?” He tried to shrug off his comment as if the long drive was no big deal, but his eyes gave him away. I told him I still had some things to do, and we arranged to meet later.
Breakfast ended and our people all went outside and hung around. Dinah’s group had gone for a last walk to the beach. Everyone else seemed to be prolonging the last moments of being together in this picturesque spot.
I checked the administration building and made sure everyone was getting checked out okay. CeeCee was at the desk, making arrangements to extend her stay. She was glad to be away from the paparazzi and said she’d
