For Better or Worsted (18 page)

CHAPTER 24

“
WHEN WERE YOU GOING TO TELL ME ABOUT
PAXTON
Cline?” Barry asked.

“What?” I said, looking up startled by Barry’s sudden appearance and his question. It was the next day, and I was working in the yarn department, putting away some yarn that had come in. Truth be told, I was lost in admiring the gorgeous shades of pumpkin, rust and brown as I separated the skeins into their own sections.

As I set down the yarn, Barry repeated the question. I checked his expression. There was definitely an edge to it.

“How did you find out about him?” I said, disgruntled. I had been so proud of how I had found the dropped best man, but didn’t want to turn the information over to Barry until I had more evidence. Barry stopped, closed his eyes in resignation.

“You’ve been hanging around me too much—answering a question with a question,” he said.

“Actually, I learned it from
The Average Joe’s Guide to Criminal Investigation
. Remember, you didn’t used to share information about cases.” I hadn’t even thought about it, but just automatically answered that way. I was so pleased with myself, I wanted to give myself a high five.

Barry muttered some disparaging remarks about the book I viewed as my own personal bible when it came to learning sleuthing. “We’re getting off the subject,” he said. “Or was that your plan?” I was relieved to see he was cracking a smile. I looked closer and saw he had a five o’clock shadow. His tie was pulled tight, and he was wearing his suit jacket, but his shirt showed some wrinkles.

“You’ve been up all night, haven’t you?”

“That’s beside the point,” he said. “So, you still haven’t answered my question.”

“And you haven’t answered any of mine,” I said. I moved a skein of rust-colored yarn away from the edge of the table. “Your question was really more a rhetorical one, while mine was a real question. And your answer would be much more interesting. It’s a chance for me to see behind the curtain of your superior investigative skills.”

Barry rolled his eyes. “You don’t really think I’m going to fall for that, do you? I mean, you really laid it on thick. I just want to know why you didn’t tell me about Paxton Cline.”

“Okay,” I said, finally capitulating. When all else fails, go with the truth. “I haven’t found out much yet, and I wanted to have it all tied up before I gave it to you.”

Barry had his arms folded now and was looking at me out of the corner of his eye, as if he didn’t quite believe me. “So then, why not just tell me what you know.” His tone had lightened into something almost playful.

This was a whole new-and-improved Barry as far as I was concerned. I liked that he seemed to value what I had to say.

“I know that Paxton was supposed to be the best man, but something happened and Jonah changed his mind and gave the job to someone else. Paxton said he was at a baseball game when Jonah got killed,” I said.

“Do you know why Jonah fired him as best man?”

I shrugged. “We didn’t get that far. That could be an understatement. He denied even knowing Jonah Kingsley.”

Barry seemed distressed that that was all I had.

“I know he lied,” I said, “but he seems like such a nice guy and he works at his grandmother’s yarn company.”

Barry was rolling his eyes and shaking his head. “None of which exclude him from killing somebody.”

“Did you find out why he got dropped as the best man?” I said.

Barry seemed to be contemplating whether to share. “It took a while to get him to admit that he knew Jonah Kingsley. But when I told Paxton I knew for a fact that he was supposed to be best man, he caved and admitted he knew the groom and was supposed to be best man. He apologized for lying about not knowing Jonah. He insisted he had nothing to do with Jonah’s death and was just trying to stay out of the whole thing.”

“That’s what I thought,” I said. “So then it doesn’t matter that I didn’t mention him to you.”

“Not so fast,” Barry said. “I’m just telling you what he said, not what is necessarily the truth, anymore than the reason he gave for his not being best man. He claimed it was all for financial reasons, but I have a source who said there was a big argument between Jonah and Paxton and that they’d almost started throwing punches. According to my source, Jonah told Paxton he didn’t want him to be his best man.”

“Did you confront Paxton with that information?” I asked.

Barry rolled his eyes at me. “What kind of detective do you think I am? Of course. I used all my tricks, but he wouldn’t budge. He said there was no fight, that he and Jonah were just playing and insisted it all came down to his not wanting to spend the money on a tuxedo, hosting the bachelor party and the rest of the stuff that went with being best man.”

“Except for one thing. If it was just about the money, and he was on such good terms with Jonah, why didn’t he come to the wedding as a guest?”

“Very good, Molly. I asked him that very question. He didn’t miss a beat and said he was embarrassed about having to step down from the position and thought it was better if he skipped the whole thing.” Barry sighed. “I don’t care what he says, I think he’s a definite suspect. I think there was bad feeling between them. From the start, we’ve thought it was someone who wanted revenge. Maybe it was Paxton. He’s a bland-looking guy and would have no problem blending in. How hard would it have been for him to find out about the servers’ outfits?”

“But what about his alibi?”

“Molly, I can’t believe you would fall for that. A baseball game, really? And by himself. Nancy Drew would be horrified.”

“So, you arrested him?” I asked.

“I need some concrete evidence. We’re combing through all the photographs of the wedding, hoping to find one with him in it. Is there anything you’ve forgotten to tell me?”

“That sounds like you think I’m holding something back,” I said.

Barry laughed at my response. “You’ve gotten way too good at not answering questions.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” I said with a little smile of pride.

“Well, are you going to tell me how you found out about Paxton?” I said.

Barry mumbled something about how he shouldn’t be encouraging me by giving me lessons. But I guess his pride in his skill won out because he explained, “I talked to the tuxedo-rental guy. The whole blowup between Jonah and Paxton happened when they went for a tuxedo fitting.”

“Wow,” I said impressed.

“I’m glad you approve,” Barry said. He put on a stern expression. “Now don’t keep information from me again. Ever hear of interfering with an investigation?” He patted the handcuffs on his belt and made a mock snap of them on my wrists.

“You wouldn’t,” I said, not sure if he was serious or not. He had his cop face on again, which was enigmatic, and I got it. He wasn’t going to answer.

* * *

“
DID YOU TELL B
ARRY ABOUT THURSDAY AND BEN?”
Dinah said. The words were barely out of her mouth before she looked around with a worried expression. It was Saturday morning and she had come by since we both had the day off. The weather was soft and clear, and we’d brought our coffee outside.

I’d let the cats out for some yard time, and both dogs were lying in the grass soaking up the sun.

“I don’t think she’s up,” I said, but even so I’d dropped my voice to a whisper. We both looked toward the house with our ears cocked. After hearing silence for a moment, I continued. “Tell Barry what? That I believe there’s something going on between them based on a veggie burger? And there’s no proof it has anything to do with the murder.”

“You’re really hanging onto that, aren’t you?” Dinah said. I nodded and reminded her that Barry was focusing on Paxton as a suspect anyway.

She was about to say something more when we heard some noise coming from the kitchen.

Dinah abruptly changed the conversation to my encounter with Barry. “So how did you say good-bye?” my friend asked. When I didn’t answer right away, she offered me a multiple choice of answers. Did we hug? Did we kiss? Did he give me a Great Aunt Gertie kind of kiss on the cheek or something better?

Dinah was laughing at my consternation as Thursday came outside and joined us.

I noticed her face was clouded over and wondered what it was in response to. She was dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt. Her short chestnut hair was still damp from her shower. It was her day off, too. “What a beautiful morning,” she said, looking at the orange trees and then up at the sky.

Dinah nudged me. “Molly and I were just making plans for the day. You’re welcome to join us.” Dinah was living up to her Watson title by trying to snare Thursday into a day of us trying to get the truth out of her without her knowing it.

It didn’t matter. Thursday declined. “Thanks for the offer, but I already have plans,” she said.

“With your father?” I asked, but she shook her head. I got the same response when I asked if she was seeing her mother. “I suppose you’re getting together with some of your friends,” I offered. She seemed to hesitate. She had certainly learned how to avoid answering questions—a skill she had probably picked up from her lawyer father. If it had been me, I would have been blabbing all the details of what I was going to do. But then, I also never would have denied knowing Ben.

Trying to be subtle about it, I kept offering her answers, and when I suggested it might be connected with her search for an apartment, she finally nodded.

“That’s it,” she said. “I’m going to look at some places in Encino and Sherman Oaks.” I noticed that she was looking away as she said it. “I can’t keep accepting your hospitality forever.” She headed back toward the kitchen, saying she was going to get a cup of coffee to take with her and go.

A few moments later, she came back out. I nudged Dinah and used my elbow to point to the gray hoodie that Thursday was carrying. Dinah nodded with recognition. The jacket meant that either Thursday was going someplace cooler, like the beach, or she was going to be gone for a long time, probably into evening, since it was too warm for a jacket at the present. Something was up.

Dinah and I traded glances. “Are you thinking what I am?” I said. “That a little ride might be nice?”

We rounded up the animals and took them inside. Quickly grabbing jackets and our bags, we rushed out to the driveway, just as Thursday was pulling her lime green Volkswagen bug away from the curb.

We jumped into Dinah’s silver Honda, zoomed back out of the driveway and pulled into the street. Whenever we were shadowing somebody, we always took Dinah’s car. It blended right in with the cars on the road, unlike the greenmobile, which stuck out.

I hung onto a shred of hope that Thursday was telling the truth when she said she was going to look at apartments. Some people always took a jacket, and she might have been reticent about answering questions because she’d been grilled so much lately. But when she got on the Ventura Freeway going away from Encino and Sherman Oaks, the shred of hope was gone.

We stayed several cars behind her and followed her when she got off at Las Virgenes Road and headed toward the mountains.

We zipped past some housing developments before the vista opened up into empty meadows with mountains as a backdrop. We left a car between us as the road began to go up and wind around between steep mountains and a drop-off to a creek. The view was now all jagged mountains and wilderness. We went through a tunnel and passed signs warning of falling rocks and deer crossings before we got to the place where we got our first panoramic view of the blue of the ocean dancing in the sunlight. As the road wound down, we passed the huge green lawn of Pepperdine University and were back in civilization with the beachfront mansions and fancy shops of Malibu.

We followed Thursday as she drove up Pacific Coast Highway. She passed an area of open beach and pulled to the side of the highway and parked. Dinah found a nearby parking spot, and we watched as Thursday got out of the car. The beach was big and relatively empty. She began crossing the sand toward the water.

“It looks like she’s meeting somebody,” I said, wishing I’d brought binoculars. There was no choice; we had to get out of the car and follow her if we were going to see who she was meeting. Thursday seemed to feel confident she was unobserved as she walked toward a figure standing near the water.

I took out my smartphone and set it to camera as we followed at a safe distance. From the distance, I couldn’t recognize who she was meeting. All I saw was that the person was wearing some kind of loose light-colored pants that flapped in the wind and a big floppy hat.

As Thursday got closer, she picked up speed and must have called out to them because I noticed the figure turning. Dinah and I were straining our eyes, and I had my smartphone ready to push the button.

When the floppy hat blew off, I knew right away who it was. Those unruly black curls were like a trademark. I was about to say something to Dinah when we both stopped in our tracks and just watched as Thursday threw herself into the arms of Ben Sherman.

“I guess she really does know him,” Dinah said deadpan as they kissed.

I snapped a whole bunch of pictures with my smartphone. They seemed so involved with each other that it was easy for us to get close enough to grab clear shots of them together.

“Now what to do with them?” I said, looking at my phone as we headed back to the car. Dinah ran through the multiple choices. Show them to Mason, show them to Barry, show them to Thursday. None of them sounded good.

CHAPTER 25

“
W
HAT ARE YOU FIDGETING WITH?” MASON SAID AS I
fiddled with my BlackBerry. The thing had a mind of its own, and with no help from me was displaying the contents of its camera. I was trying to get the screen to go dark. Mason had come by to take Thursday and me to Sunday brunch, and we were standing in my living room waiting for Thursday.

“Nothing,” I said as I quickly put my smartphone in my purse. I still hadn’t done anything with the pictures of Thursday and Ben, other than look at them numerous times myself. I kept hoping that when I looked at them again, I’d realize I’d followed the wrong person and that it was two strangers in the pictures. But there was no denying it was them. There was also no denying their relationship was a lot more than two people just casually talking, either. As Dinah and I had watched them, the phrase “get a room” had come to mind.

Once we got the pictures, Dinah and I had given up trailing Thursday and driven on to the outlet mall. Thursday was already home when we finally got back. We found her sitting in the crochet room with a big hook moving through three strands of colorful yarn.

She held up her work and explained she was making one of the pet mats like CeeCee had been making. How could I say anything? Not only was she crocheting, but she was making a pet mat. A girl who’d never had a pet. She even insisted on making dinner for us.

Apparently she hadn’t exactly been lying about checking out places to live, because she announced that she’d found a place—a guesthouse on the edge of Tarzana.

I snapped back to the present as Mason smiled at me. “This is nice,” Mason said, “taking two of my favorite people out together.” A moment later, Thursday came into the room all smiles as she hugged her father. “I thought we’d go to the beach,” he said.

It felt vaguely familiar as Mason steered his Mercedes through the canyon on the way through the mountains. Only he took Topanga Canyon. But all the canyon roads that led to the beach had one thing in common, you felt like you’d gone off to some wilderness instead of being a few minutes from a freeway traffic jam.

I kept looking at my purse, thinking of the bombshell in there. As Mason and Thursday talked about her getting on with her life, I knew she was leaving something major out. She had something going with Ben, and I was pretty sure it wasn’t something new. I didn’t even want to think about the fact that he’d worked at the wedding as a server and would have known where a knife was going to be.

The last part of the ride, when the view of the ocean suddenly appeared, was always like opening a present. I never got tired of looking at the sun glinting off the water or of searching in the distance for the Channel Islands sitting offshore.

Mason had chosen a restaurant that sat right on the beach, and he’d scored a table by the window. I tried to lose myself in the view and stop thinking about the phone in my purse. The conversation had been mostly between Mason and his daughter, though I’d been included enough not to feel left out.

“I knew you would bounce back,” Mason said to Thursday as we sat down at our table. “You take after me.” Thursday looked up and made eye contact with her father.

“What else could I do?” she said.

The brunch was served buffet-style, and the three of us went to fill our plates. I couldn’t help but check out Thursday’s plate. She had eggs, potatoes, French toast with fruit sauce, fruit salad and a mélange of vegetables.

“I’m afraid this case is going to get filed away. It seems impossible to believe with all those witnesses, that nobody saw anything. But the cops seem to have nothing beyond a shirt that was messed with enough to ruin any evidence it might have held.”

He looked to me. “What about you, Sunshine? Have you found anything? I know you, and you must have been doing your own investigating. We all might just be depending on you this time.” He explained to his daughter that my methods were hardly traditional. “But fun,” he added with a chuckle.

“Actually, Barry does have his eye on someone.” Barry hadn’t said anything about keeping it quiet, so why not tell them. Was it my imagination or did both of them jump?

“Who?” Mason said quickly. Thursday had set down her fork and had her hands in her lap as if she was ready for bad news.

“Paxton Cline,” I said. Thursday blew out her breath and Mason looked mystified.

“Who?” he repeated. I explained who Paxton was and his connection to Jonah.

Mason turned to his daughter. “You must know him. What do you think?”

I remembered that Thursday had pretended not to know him when we’d passed him in the mall, so I was curious to see how she would respond.

“I forgot about him,” she said. “He was a friend of Jonah’s from the time they were kids. I really didn’t know him that well, and I don’t know what happened with him being best man. It was all between Jonah and him. He could have had a grudge against Jonah.”

She had given the perfect answer, which even went along with her reaction at the mall. If she didn’t know him that well, she easily could not have recognized him.

“He sounds like a suspect to me,” Mason said.

“But maybe not the right one,” I said. “I know he lied, but my gut says it will turn out not to be him. He has an alibi, though it’s kind of flimsy.” I mentioned the baseball game and Mason laughed. Whatever I said, they both seemed to want to think that Paxton was the guy.

It wasn’t too hard to figure out why. Mason was worried the revenge motive was aimed at him for getting off a client. And as for Thursday—could she be worried that Ben might come under Barry’s scrutiny if he wasn’t busy looking at somebody else?

The mood lightened and we all went back to the buffet for seconds. But I was left wondering what was going on with Thursday and Ben. As I sat back down, I put my purse in my lap. Instinctively, I held on to it, feeling the outline of my BlackBerry.

“Sunshine, why are you clutching your purse so tightly?” Mason stood up and reached for it, saying I’d be more comfortable with it sitting on the empty chair. If only the strap hadn’t caught on my arm. I tried to make a save, but the bag opened up and everything started to tumble out.

Mason, ever the gentleman, rushed to help me. Thursday went after the rolling coins. My BlackBerry hit the floor, bounced and landed by Mason’s foot. I could see the screen had gone to some application, and since the last thing I’d looked at was the photo display, I was sure that was what was on the screen.

I tried to make a grab for it, but Mason picked it up before I could. Since I was notorious for my phone issues, the first thing Mason did was look at the screen.

I heard my breath suck in with a loud noise. Any second he would start asking about the photograph. Would he recognize his daughter? Would he show it to her, and I’d have to explain why I’d been following her?

Mason kept looking at the screen and shaking his head.

“I can explain,” I stammered, hoping an explanation would suddenly appear in my mind, because I really didn’t have one at all.

“I should hope so,” Mason said. His usual grin was gone, and his mouth was drawn up into an unhappy straight line. Visions of having to walk home went through my mind as I imagined him thinking I was trying to incriminate his daughter and the two of them making a hasty exit without me.

In the midst of this, a waiter came by offering skewers of chicken satay. He obviously had no idea of what he’d walked into and held out the tray.

“We’re just testing them,” the waiter said. “I’m supposed to find out what you think.” My stomach was doing flip-flops, and I wanted to make a grab for my BlackBerry now that they were distracted, but Mason was holding it tight. He shrugged at the waiter and took three skewers, putting one on each of our plates. Mason tasted the chicken on his skewer and said it was okay.

Meanwhile, the waiter looked to Thursday and me. I tasted mine, even though I was so tense I could barely swallow it. Now all eyes were on Thursday. She stared at the hunk of meat on her plate.

Finally she rocked her head in dismay and looked up at the waiter. “I’m sorry I can’t help you. I’m a vegetarian.”

“What?” Mason said from across the table. “Since when? Why didn’t you tell me? Does your mother know? What do you eat? And what about vitamin B12?”

I was happy to see Mason was acting like an irate father and hoped I could use the distraction to make him lose his train of thought. The delay had caused the screen of my phone to go dark, and if I could just get the phone and put it away, I was sure he’d be so lost in grilling his daughter about her eating habits, he’d forget all about what he had seen.

But there were two problems. Mason never let go of my BlackBerry, and Thursday had the same distraction idea I had.

“Dad, you were upset about a photograph on Molly’s phone.” She waved her hand toward the object in his hands. Mason’s attention snapped back to my phone, and he ran his finger across the rolling ball until the screen came back on. I checked my shoes for their comfort level and thought there must be a bus that would take me back to the Valley, even if it took forever.

As soon as he saw the picture again, he started shaking his head in dismay.

“I don’t understand.” He held up the squarish phone so the screen was visible to his daughter. She had a reaction similar to his. I took a deep breath as he moved it in front of me. “Do you want to explain?” When I saw the image I almost choked on my own breath. The phone had gone to camera mode and displayed a photograph. But instead of the beach scene with Thursday and Ben I was worried about, the display had gone to a photo that was from the night I’d gone to Jeffrey’s play. Barry, Jeffrey and I were all standing together with our arms around one another, looking very much like a family.

“I suppose there are more?” Mason said. I saw his finger going toward the roller ball in the middle of the phone. Just a slight touch and it would start scrolling through the rest of the photos on the phone. I snatched it before he could touch it.

“It’s for Jeffrey,” I said. “It was a big night for him.” Mason seemed a little less upset with the explanation.

“I’m sorry I overreacted, but it just looked like there was more going on with Barry than you were letting on.” I felt a giddy laugh coming as I buried the phone in the bottom of my purse. This was horrible. Mason had always been the one I could open up to. And now I was keeping this terrible secret from him.

Whatever I did, I would lose. If I told Mason about his daughter and Ben, he would blame the messenger—me—for the message. If I didn’t tell him and he found out, he would be forever angry with me for not telling him. One way or the other, I was going to have to confront Thursday. But I wanted to do it when we were alone.