I showed Dinah the list and the panel with the flowers in the vase. “Name that sounds like a flower and then a vase full of them. I bet there is a connection.” We peered closer and then stepped back, trying to get a better perspective.
“The only problem is, what kind of flowers are they supposed to be?” Dinah said. “Maybe droopy tulips? Any way you look at them, they don’t look like roses.”
“So much for Roseanne in that department.” I checked out the motif again. “Yeah, they do look more like drooping tulips.”
Dinah yawned and said she was too tired to think anymore. My nerves had settled and I was ready to face my house. I hugged Dinah good night and left.
As I walked out, I saw a black Crown Victoria had pulled behind the greenmobile.
Before I got to my car, the motor cut off and Barry got out. This was awkward. If we weren’t friends, what were we? And how was I supposed to act?
“I heard there was some excitement at the bookstore. Something about a masked woman in sequins trying to rob the place.” He was trying to sound serious, but who could say that with a straight face?
“Adele just got carried away and Mrs. Shedd overreacted.” We were standing facing each other now a few feet apart. Even with the streetlight I couldn’t see his expression. He seemed to breathe heavily a few times, as though holding something in.
“I happened to drive by your house. There was a motorcycle parked out front.” He left it hanging.
“It’s Mason’s.”
“Oh,” he said in an unreadable tone.
“Are you stalking me?” I asked lightly. Barry took a moment to consider before answering.
“It could look that way, couldn’t it?” He paused again. “Here’s what it is. I got in the habit of checking on you when I was out working. I’d drive by your house to make sure everything looked okay. Or if I saw your car—” He glanced toward the greenmobile. Even in the orange streetlight, it stood out. “And if there was a call at the station involving you or your area, somebody always contacted me.” He breathed a few times and did the clenching thing with his jaw. “Sorry. Habits are hard to kick. I’ll have to make a note that I’m not supposed to care anymore.”
He let the words hang in the air for a moment and then continued. “Jeffrey is coming back in a week. Whatever differences we have, it doesn’t seem fair for him to lose out on his dog. I’ll have him call you, if that’s all right, and maybe you could work something out.”
My heart squeezed. In all this, I hadn’t thought about Jeffrey. Barry was right. Even if we couldn’t be friends, his son and I still could. Oh what a complicated web this had become.
When I got home, the She La Las were crowded into the den amidst all the living room furniture that had been moved in there, and were watching themselves on the TV screen.
“Samuel got the idea of videoing us so we could see where we need work,” my mother said as I walked in. I had to laugh. She was so completely self-absorbed, she hadn’t even said hello. Apparently Peter had also given them some pointers. “No matter what he said about not knowing anything about personal appearances, he did know a lot.” She mentioned there was plenty of food left in the kitchen and also that if I didn’t want any, it might be a good idea to put it away and take the trash out.
“How many more days before your audition?” I asked, trying to keep the edge out of my voice.
“Not enough. We made so many mistakes. Look right there, Lana. You should have gone right and you went left.”
As I turned to go, she mentioned Mason. “What was with him? He was so nice before, but tonight he kept scowling at me. And that outfit.” She shook her head with disapproval. “I think you better keep looking.”
I stifled a giggle as I walked across the house. Too bad I had to miss that show.
“YOU WERE THERE?” CEECEE SAID TO CAMILLE as the crochet group settled in around the event table. Adele had just told her about dance night. “It’s probably just as well I wasn’t. They would have had a field day getting photos of me in the middle of a raid.”
“There wasn’t any press,” Camille said. She had her work on the table and was trying hard to be part of the group. “It was my first book event, but it won’t be my last. We had everything: music, dancing, drama and police action. I couldn’t wait to tell Hunnie about it.”
CeeCee appeared worried. “Did you tell him I wasn’t there?” Camille shook her head and seemed confused by the question. I knew CeeCee was still convinced Camille was spying on her because of the contract negotiations.
“My mother was pretty surprised by all the excitement,” Ali said. “I tried to talk her into joining the crochet group, but she’s really busy with her cactus nursery.” Ali held up another crochet cactus she’d made. “She’s going to start selling these, too.”
Sheila picked it up and admired it. “I’m okay with missing last night. It sounds kind of tense.” She turned toward me. “Have you had any luck figuring out more of the filet crochet piece? The woman at the gym with all the police information said they had decided Mary Beth’s sister was a person of interest. And the poison was in the candy apples, just like you said.”
“Wow,” I said, turning to Dinah.
Camille obviously wasn’t listening. She was ruffling through her designer bag du jour and after a moment pulled out a newspaper page and held it up. “I don’t know if you saw this.” There was a photo of a patrol officer walking a child to a cruiser. Their backs were to the camera, but it was clear what the child was holding. More than holding, he was really cuddling it.
“That’s the blanket you made,” I said to CeeCee.
“Dear, you’re right.” CeeCee looked closely at the picture. It was something to see one of our blankets actually providing a little comfort.
Camille stood up. “I am so proud of working with you all. This is so different than just planning charity dinners and having to make sure I don’t wear the same dress twice. This is real. It is direct to a person in need. Thank you.”
Adele rolled her eyes. Maybe Camille was laying it on a little thick, but after all her years of living like a princess the experience of tangibly helping someone in need had to be new to her, and in its own way, probably wonderful.
“Pink, give us an update. Have you found out Mary Beth Wells’s secret or who killed her? You’ve had enough time.”
“Actually, I’d like your opinion,” I said, bringing out the original panel piece.
“More about the mystery,” Camille said in an excited whisper. “I can’t wait to e-mail my kids about this. They think I’m such a joke—that all I do is get dressed up to have lunch with a bunch of women. I want them to know I’m doing something real.” Camille put up her hands. “It used to be you wanted to make your parents proud. Now, you have to impress your kids.”
I remembered the photo Dinah had shown me of Camille in the background the day we found the bag. Okay, she was sitting there and her name sounded sort of like a flower. It seemed like the perfect time to ask her about it.
I pulled out the print Dinah had made and slid it in front of Camille. “Do you want to tell me about this?”
Camille kept her face down as she stared at the photo. Trying to help her along, I pointed out Mary Beth. “I thought you didn’t know her. But it’s obvious you’re looking right at her.”
CeeCee’s eyes grew wide with horror, and she started waving at me from across the table. I knew she was trying to stop me, but I wouldn’t look up. Finally, CeeCee came around the table and snatched the picture away.