I pulled into my driveway and ran across my lawn toward the group. By now I could see the figure on the ground was Emily and one of the paramedics was helping her up. She looked shaky and pale.
“What happened?” I said to the group. The woman in the suit stepped toward me.
“She was at her mailbox and suddenly she just collapsed.”
The man came forward. “It looked like she might have hit her head. We called nine-one-one.”
I pointed to my house and explained I was a neighbor.
I approached Emily, who seemed dazed. Her eyes were locked in a stunned expression. When she saw me, she reached out for my hand.
“Bradley’s dead.”
CHAPTER 6
“HERE YOU ARE,” BARRY SAID, WALKING INTO THE yarn department. “Did you forget our plans?” I looked up slightly dazed. The worktable was littered with yarn, hooks and knitting needles. I had been switching between crocheting and knitting swatches, along with reading over the plans for the two upcoming bookstore events. A ball of thread along with a silver hook and a partially done snowflake was off to the side.
Barry appeared to have gotten some sleep and the jeans and dark green pocket tee shirt with an open flannel shirt over it were not his work clothes, and I recalled that he’d had the day off. I didn’t know what plans he was talking about until he mentioned our parting remarks in the morning after I made him breakfast. “Remember we were going to have dinner and . . . ?” The heat coming off his eyes made it pretty clear what he meant by and. It seemed the distant past now. Particularly after the events of the afternoon.
Barry suddenly realized I wasn’t alone and he grunted as he saw my company. His irritated sound wasn’t aimed at Sheila. Ever since the table had become a permanent fixture, so had she. Who could blame her? She lived in a rented room in a house in Woodland Hills. All his irritation was aimed at Mason, who was sitting next to Sheila and working on the red dog sweater for Spike.
“I thought you had the evening off,” Barry said to me.
“I would have if it hadn’t been for this afternoon,” I said, sitting up and trying to stretch the kinks out of my back. Barry gave Mason a dark look, apparently assuming my afternoon’s problems had involved him.
Mason put his hands up in innocence. “I had nothing to do with it. She forgot our plans, too.”
Barry glowered at the last comment. “I called your cell a bunch of times but just got your voice mail. What’s going on?”
“Really?” I said, fishing around for my cell phone. It had gone to silent, again. The screen flashed on and the message icon flashed. I put the phone on the table so I wouldn’t miss any calls, but it was kind of like shutting the door after the chickens got out. I looked at Barry. “I’m sorry that I forgot our dinner plans.” I nodded at Mason. “And I’m sorry I forgot I offered to help you with Spike’s coat.” I looked at both of them. “And I’m sorry I apparently made double plans. I’m sorry I didn’t answer my cell phone, too.” I let out a heavy sigh. “I’m tired,” I said, bringing up my aborted night’s sleep on top of a killer day on top of a two-day trip with Adele. “I thought I’d work through the afternoon and go home and crash. But life had other plans.” The three of them had concern in their expressions by now. I sounded pretty close to cracking.
“Okay, what happened this afternoon that changed everything?” Barry said, leaning on the table.
I explained about going home in the middle of the day to pick up the snowflakes, which as it turned out never got picked up. I described the scene with Emily and the paramedics.
“She told me that Bradley was dead, and then as they were loading her in the ambulance, she said her daughters needed to be picked up from school.”
“And you volunteered,” Barry said.
“What else could I do—leave the girls stranded at school? The couple in the suits certainly weren’t going to do it. They were already in their car.”
“Who were they?” Mason asked. I didn’t have an answer. They were gone before I had a chance to ask them and Emily had a few other things going on.
“So, what happened to the Perkins guy?” Barry prodded.
“I didn’t find out until later. I picked up her girls and went by the hospital. Emily was ready to be released. They’d determined she hadn’t hit her head and had just passed out from shock.” I described driving them all home with a side stop at a fast-food drive-thru.
“She told her daughters she’d taken a misstep off a ladder while trying to finish putting up the Christmas lights. She didn’t say anything about Bradley to them, so I guess they still thought he was away on a business trip. They bought the story about the ladder and she got them to take their merry meals into the den. When we were alone she dropped the cheerful pretense and took a letter out of her pocket and handed it to me. The torn envelope looked benign. It was addressed to her and postmarked Long Beach. The letter was anything but benign. Emily began to cry as I read it over.”
I took a deep breath, feeling my stomach clench at remembering the note. “It was a suicide note. He said by the time she read it, he’d be gone. That’s why he bought the one-way ticket on the Catalina Express. He knew it would be dark and not crowded and nobody would notice him go off the back of the boat. And why? He said he’d gotten in over his head with his business and this was the only honorable thing to do.”
I described how helpless I felt watching her holding herself and rocking back and forth. How I wished there was something to say to comfort her. Charlie’s death had been sudden and it had been hard to deal with, but he’d had a heart attack. Not the same as choosing to die.
“She had a momentary glimmer of hope. The note had said what he planned to do. Maybe he’d changed his mind. But when she checked her phone messages, there was one from the customer service people at the boat company. A wallet and cell phone had been found left on the evening boat the night before.”
I told them that Emily called the police officer she knew. He was the one who’d been there when the meter reader had mentioned the smell coming from my house. Since he knew Bradley from his daughter’s soccer team, she thought he could help her. I leaned back in my chair and tried to summon some energy. “I didn’t get back to the bookstore until this evening.” I didn’t mention how I had doubted Emily’s story before. Her reaction to the letter seemed genuine and the balance went toward believing her.
In my peripheral vision I noticed William had come up to the table.
“Somebody probably got in touch with the coast guard. I imagine they made a sweep,” Barry said. “But after that amount of time, and that amount of ocean, and sharks ...” Barry’s shrug said it all. They wouldn’t find anything. I was surprised when he offered to check it out to be sure. Mason didn’t take that information well. I think he was happier when Barry told me to stay out of things and Mason got to be the ear I turned to and my source for information.
Barry pulled out his phone and went off into the corner. William was too polite to interrupt and only now, when there was a lull in the conversation, said hello.
“If you’re looking for Adele, she isn’t back here,” I said.
“She’ll probably show up here any minute,” the clown author said with a knowing smile. “What’s going on? I heard you say something about the coast guard.”
I started to explain about Bradley, but as predicted Adele swept into the department and latched arms with his. I finally got it all out, even what was in the suicide note.
“That’s terrible,” William said.
“You’re so right, honey,” Adele added. “Those poor little girls, even if he wasn’t their real father. He won’t be there to take them to your next Koo Koo event.” She gave William’s arm a tug. “We better go if we’re going to make our dinner reservation.”