Knot Guilty (19 page)

“I stopped by here to see if I need anything to bring to your class,” Leonora Humphries said, trying to compose herself as she glanced over the supply of yarn and tools.

“You're taking my class?” Adele said, and then she turned to the rest of the people and said in a loud voice, “You must have gotten the last spot.” When no one rushed up to beg to get into the class, Adele turned back to the woman she hoped would someday be her mother-in-law.

“I brought some odds and ends of yarn and rather large knitting needles,” the older woman said. Adele's eyes bugged out.

“Needles. It's a crochet class. You need a hook. No, don't worry, I'll bring you one of mine.”

“Oh,” Leonora said, sounding genuinely confused. “It would be nice if I could use that handmade one you have.”

It was at that moment that Adele remembered how much trouble she was in. “I have lots of hooks you can use. There's no reason to dwell on that one.” Adele pulled out a bamboo hook and handed it to the woman. “Here, this is a nice one.” Then she grabbed her large bag and suggested they walk to the class together.

I hadn't told Adele, but I was worried about the class being empty, so I'd signed up for it. I didn't want her to have an empty class or just one student like Leonora. Dinah was ready for a break on pin detail and took over sales. Rhoda said her husband was coming by in a while and she was going to show him around, but in the meantime she could stay. Sheila said she'd be glad to help Dinah out. Eduardo was too busy with his crochet groupies to notice that I was gone.

The classrooms were all on the second floor. They all had names that came from local communities. Each had a placard out front with the name and details of the upcoming class. Adele's was being held in the Studio City room. As I went inside, I realized the classrooms had been shaped by dividing a larger space. Move all the folding walls and there was a large ballroom. It amazed me how temporary it all was. The room had been set up with four tables with four chairs at each of them. A long table was in the front for Adele.

Leonora chose the first seat at the first table. I hung back and was relieved to see more women than I'd expected come in and take their seats. I heard several people remark that before this show with our booth and the demonstrations, they'd only thought of crochet as being picot stitches for edging. I felt a sense of pride. We actually were getting the yarn world to notice us.

The class wasn't full, but there were enough people not to be an embarrassment. Adele began by modeling the wrap and then talking a few minutes about why crocheting it was so much better than knitting it. “You could never knit this horizontally,” she said. “All those stitches would never fit on knitting needles—even the circular ones.” A murmur of acknowledgment rippled through the group. Even Leonora Humphries nodded in appreciation. The first thing Adele had them do was to lay out the yarn they'd brought and decide the order they wanted to add it to the wrap. Adele made her way through the group, suggesting different orderings of their yarn and, in one case, telling a woman she ought to use two strands of some thin yarn so it would be about the same thickness as the other yarn she'd brought. At last Adele returned to the front and looked out at her class. “Okay, ladies, it's hooks up.” Adele held up her size L hook and waited until everyone had done the same, except me. I'd forgotten to bring anything but my purse.

Adele made a big fuss that it was lucky she'd brought extra supplies as she set me up. She demonstrated how to do the chain stitches and told the group how many to make. The room fell silent as six people moved their hooks through their yarns. I heard a little rustle in the back of the room but ignored it as I made my chains. Adele was just beginning to start the first real row, and she glanced over the crowd. I saw her eyes grow wide and her mouth fall open, and she took a step back.

Curious what she was reacting to, I looked behind me. My mouth fell open, too, when I saw Detective Heather standing against the back wall. I knew that she was a knitter, actually a very good knitter, but I didn't think she was here in that capacity. Not when I saw her badge show as the jacket of her blue suit opened. I also caught sight of her gun, but under the circumstances that seemed irrelevant.

Detective Heather walked down the center aisle and stopped right between Leonora Humphries and Adele.

“You're under arrest for the murder of K.D. Kirby,” she said to Adele as she opened up her handcuffs.

I was down the aisle in a flash. “You can't do this,” I said. “I made a deal with Barry, uh, I mean Detective Greenberg. No arresting her during the weekend.”

Detective Heather flicked a lock of her blond bangs off to the side. “I don't know anything about that.” She snapped the cuffs on Adele, who had begun to wail and was trying to reach out to me with her hands behind her back.

“Pink, do something,” Adele said. Then she turned to her students. “There are pages with directions on the table. You'll have to finish them on your own.” Leonora Humphries looked horrified, grabbed her things and left in a huff.

“I can't stay,” I said, rushing into the Shedd & Royal booth. “Detective Heather just arrested Adele.” Dinah looked shocked but told me not to worry, she'd keep things going while I was gone. I grabbed my jacket and rushed out to the parking lot.

I never dial and drive, so I called Barry before I started the engine. “We had a deal,” I said. “What happened?”

He seemed confused. “Heather arrested her?” I heard him blow out his breath. “I guess I didn't mention our agreement to her. I didn't think she'd do anything without talking to me.” He tried to lighten the moment. “At least this time it's not you in handcuffs.”

There was dead silence at my end and I heard him swallow. “I'll meet you at the station.”

Detective Heather got to the West Valley Station before I did, not that it did her much good. As I got out of my car, I saw her standing beside hers with the doors open. She looked frustrated and I quickly understood why. Adele was refusing to get out of the car.

“Hey, Molly, over here,” Detective Heather said. “Tell her to get out of the car. She'll listen to you.”

I almost said, “Are you kidding? Adele listen to me? She doesn't listen to anybody.” But I figured that was counterproductive. I didn't know what to do, but I finally just started talking to Adele like I had to my boys in their younger days when they'd gotten into a mess. “Adele, it's okay,” I said in my best calm voice. “It's all a mistake. You just need to go inside so we can straighten it out.”

Adele didn't look like she was going to budge, but then she stuck her head out. “You promise?” she said in a plaintive voice.

She got out, and Detective Heather looped her arm in Adele's and took her inside. I waited until I saw Barry's Crown Vic pull into the parking lot.

“I'm sorry,” he said as he joined me. Whatever calming effect I'd had on Adele had worn off, and she was making such a ruckus, I could hear her when I walked into the lobby. Barry went back into the cops-only area. A short time later, Adele came out with Detective Heather.

“Are the cuffs off my friend?” I said, trying to see Adele's hands. Adele held them out to show me that she was free.

“Barry convinced me we don't have enough to hold her—yet.”

Adele threw herself in my arms. “I knew it. You called me your friend. That's almost the same as best friend, isn't it?” She looked at Detective Heather. “Actually, Molly and I are French toast sisters.”

Detective Heather rolled her eyes. “That's not a ceremony I want to imagine.” Adele was still holding on to me. She barely let go long enough for us to get in my car, then she latched right on again.

We returned to the show. The booth was a madhouse. In our absence Elise had come back with her husband in full Anthony costume. The bins of yarn were close to empty, and all of the thread we'd picked up had been sold or used for our free pin making. Dinah was taking away a tin with a few crumbs left in it and said that Bob had stopped by with a batch of Linzer Torte Cookie Bars to offer with our sales. Eduardo was on the front bench taking a selfie with a fan.

Rhoda grabbed me when I got to the booth. “Don't worry about a thing. We've all been doing everything just like you asked when you called. I went up to supervise the rest of Adele's class. Once they got past the drama, I helped them with Adele's pattern and made sure they all had copies to take with. I think they actually liked the excitement.” She held up a list. “We've been giving out information about all the activities at the bookstore. These are the people interested in having crochet parties.” The list had ten people, and I gave her a thank-you hug.

Sheila was trying to keep calm and teach two people how to crochet at once. “I want to make one of those,” one of the women said, touching the soft shawl Sheila had wrapped around her shoulders. This one was made in shades of lavender with blues mixed in.

Adele was telling everyone how I'd come to her rescue and that was what best friends did. Somehow she hadn't focused on what Detective Heather and Barry had said about her reprieve being temporary.

The crowd in the aisle parted as Eric strode through. He had that kind of effect. He was well over six feet with a barrel chest and super-erect posture. And this time he was in his motor cop uniform, though he'd taken the helmet off.

“Cutchykins, is it true? My mother said you were arrested.” He stopped just outside the booth and Adele came out to meet him.

“It was all a mistake,” Adele said and then waved her arm toward me. “Ask Pink about it. I was too dazed to understand what was going on.”

Eric zeroed in on me. “She didn't kill that woman, did she? I know Adele is a very passionate woman.” He left it hanging and looked to me hoping for reassurance. All I could do was tell him the truth about the hook and what Barry and Heather had agreed to.

“I can't believe that I'm saying this, since they are my cop brethren and sisteren, but you have to do something. I know how they operate. If they think she's the one, they won't look for anyone else.”

Was there even such a word as
sisteren
? “I already have a whole list of suspects. That woman wasn't very popular,” I said. His face immediately brightened, and he took my hands and squeezed them. “Adele always says you're her something or other sister. Thank you.”

Adele had certainly blown a mere brunch out of proportion, but then that was Adele. One Sunday morning I had invited her over for French toast, and since then she'd proclaimed us French toast sisters. And continually told everybody about it.

There were still a few hours left while the marketplace was open, and I was determined to stay in the booth. Things calmed down immeasurably when Eduardo left. He promised to come back for the banquet and the evening program.

I was manning the front table when Ruby Cline came by. “There was so much commotion going on in this booth compared to that one.” She pointed across the aisle to K.D.'s yarn store. They still had a big supply of yarn, and I noticed that Audrey Stewart was sitting inside knitting. There were a couple of women around her, but nothing like the crowd Eduardo had drawn. Mason was sitting on a chair next to her. He looked bored until our eyes met. I sent him a warm smile before turning my attention back to Ruby Cline. I had wanted to talk to her, and now she was here. This was my chance.

I'd learned from
The Average Joe's Guide to Criminal Investigation
that it was a good idea to start by asking things you already knew the answers to. Then right away you'd get a pretty good idea if somebody was being truthful.

“It's so sad about K.D.,” I began. “I understand you knew her.” I left it at that to see what she would say.

Ruby was about the same age as K.D., which put her in her early sixties, though to look at her, you'd never guess. Maybe it was true that the sixties had become the new forties. It wasn't so much her appearance as the way she was connected, relevant, in the middle of what was happening now. She was dressed in stylish black slacks with an amethyst-colored sweater over a white shirt with the cuffs, collar and tails showing. Her hair was reddish, blondish, brownish, no doubt a concoction of her hairdresser. The texture of her hair gave away that it was gray underneath the color, but the wavy style flattered her face. She wore diamond studs in her ears and a gold bangle on her wrist. I looked at her hands and saw only one ring. It was a white cameo set in a black background and worn on her middle finger.

Ruby took her time answering, pretending to be examining the crossed hooks that were blinking up at her. “What a fun idea,” she said. I nodded and waited for her answer about K.D. “I'm sorry, you asked me something about K.D.?” She seemed puzzled, as if it was something so trivial she'd forgotten the question.

“I said I thought you two knew each other.” Apparently Ruby had used the time to come up with an answer, because then she spoke readily.

“Of course, we knew each other. I own a yarn company and she has, I mean had, magazines about yarn and a store that sold our brand.” She glanced around the area. “Have you heard if they have anyone under suspicion?”

“The police don't have anyone in custody,” I said. “It was pretty crazy around here Thursday afternoon. Did you get a chance to have a moment alone with K.D.?”

Ruby flinched, though she tried to cover it up. “My grandson says that you're some kind of amateur sleuth. I assure you I had nothing to do with K.D.'s death.”

I didn't say anything, but her comment didn't really mean a lot. Most killers don't go around admitting that they killed someone. And she had clearly lied by omission. She hadn't denied knowing K.D., but she certainly hadn't let on how well or for how long she'd known her, or that her old boyfriend had ended up as K.D.'s husband. She quickly changed the subject after that and wanted to know about the yarn from her company that we'd sold and if the thread had worked out.

“You can see for yourself.” I stood aside and let her gaze back into the booth at the picked-over bins and hanging displays.

“It looks like you had a fire sale in here.” She looked around for a moment longer, as if she were thinking about saying something, but she must have decided not to because she wished me luck and left.

“What was that about?” Dinah asked, joining me at the entrance to the booth.

“I think Ruby Cline is worried about what I know. She asked about the thread. Paxton must have caved and told her about our trip up there. Maybe he mentioned that I'd seen the photos.”

“I bet he didn't mention his wild driving,” Dinah said, reining in her long red scarf.

I gave Dinah a quick recap of my afternoon, though thanks to Adele's histrionics, she knew most of it. “I don't know about you, but I need a coffee,” I said. Dinah agreed, and we left Rhoda in charge while Adele recuperated from all the excitement.

The crowd was thinning out as the afternoon faded. We caught a glimpse outside through the windows in the corridor as someone exited the marketplace. The sky was turning into twilight.

“Thank heavens the snack bar has espresso drinks,” I said, ordering a red eye. Dinah skipped her usual café au lait and went for the brew of the day. Then we gathered our drinks and headed for one of the tables in the area.

We'd no sooner sat down when CeeCee came by wrapped in the scent of roses and jasmine and stopped at our table.

“How could we have been in the same place all weekend and barely seen each other?” She looked at our drinks longingly. “I could use one of those and maybe a little something sweet to go with it.” The fact that CeeCee was always concerned about her weight because she insisted the camera really did put on at least ten pounds didn't stop her from having a legendary sweet tooth. She told us to save her a chair and went on to the snack bar.

“It's been a long day,” Dinah said, feeling the spikes in her short salt-and-pepper hair. “Even my hair is starting to droop. Remind me to re-gell it before the night's events.”

I took a long drag on my drink, longing for the jolt of caffeine to recharge me. CeeCee rejoined us, carrying a coffee drink and a basket full of tiny, freshly made donuts. “I brought enough to share. In fact, do me a favor and dig in so I don't eat them all.” She glanced toward the front. “I need a break. When I signed on for this weekend I had no idea how much work hanging out here, teaching that class and judging the entries in the crochet competition would be. And I certainly didn't expect Audrey Stewart to be here all weekend trying to be
the
celebrity of the place.” CeeCee's eyes went skyward. “It's been quite a while since she was in a hit movie. If there hadn't been all that fuss when she was accused of shoplifting the knitting needles, no one would even realize she was once such a big celebrity.” The round tables near us had attracted a lot of other shoppers taking a break. Most of them were working with yarn as they talked. CeeCee had a way of drawing attention to herself. I could never put my finger on it, but she always seemed to own the room. A number of the people looked our way, and I could see by their expressions that they recognized her. A moment later, one of them was standing next to our table.

“I'd be glad to sign an autograph and take a picture,” CeeCee said brightly. She was definitely a trouper who rose to the occasion. All traces of the fatigue she'd just mentioned had vanished and she'd put on a happy smile. But everything changed when CeeCee saw who joined us as the photo was snapped, and her smile faded into a look of concern.

I recognized Julie by the butterfly on her hand. She was the woman I'd seen twice embarrassed by K.D. She was biting her lip and seemed nervous addressing CeeCee. “I was just wondering if the winners have been chosen in the competition.”

“Dear, my lips are sealed on that for the moment. You'll find out tomorrow when everybody else does.”