A Stitch in Crime (18 page)

Mason took my arm and led me to the back of the lobby. A wide doorway opened onto a restaurant. The lights were low and the walls all glass. Floodlights on the roof illuminated the area outside, and I saw the edge of the golf course. I knew the beach was on the other side.

I was enjoying the surroundings, but the sense of guilt about leaving was still hanging on my shoulders like a shawl. At least if I talked about Izabelle’s death, it would make the occasion seem work-related rather than fun.

As soon as the host seated us, I started talking about Izabelle. Mason looked up from his menu and rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to justify being here. I’m sure Mrs. Shedd wouldn’t mind. She took off on a cruise. It’s okay to be off duty,” he said. “See, me too.” He pointed to the line on the menu that said no cell phone conversations were allowed in the dining room, and took out his phone and shut it off.

“I’m not supposed to be having any fun,” I said in a serious tone. “I’m not sure I like being the boss. I miss fun.”

Mason picked up his menu. “It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone if you enjoy yourself.”

“But I’ve only got the weekend to figure out who killed Izabelle,” I said.

“I thought you didn’t want it to be murder. Remember how I said it would be impossible to get somebody to eat a s’more against their will and it was just what you wanted to hear.”

I sighed. “Okay, I didn’t want it to be murder, but I can’t ignore the facts just because a murder makes me look bad.”

“Even the local cop is only interested in finding out if someone was on the beach with her. He’s investigating it as an accident,” Mason said.

I leaned forward. “Did he question you?”

Mason nodded. “He hung around all day, grabbing people. I’m surprised you didn’t see him. But then I guess he was done with you.”

“So, what did he ask you?”

“Probably the same as everyone else. What did I know about Izabelle Landers and did I meet her on the beach. He seemed to be going the direct question route. I suppose he was looking for reactions. You know, not being able to look somebody in the eye if you’re lying. I had nothing to tell him, but I did get a little info out of him.” Mason seemed pleased with himself. “Want to know what he said?” It was just a tease. Mason knew I wanted to know.

“French is only looking for someone who was on the beach with her, and if the retreat ends and everybody keeps denying they were the one, he’ll probably close the investigation since he’s convinced it wasn’t foul play.”

The waiter came by, and I waited while Mason ordered a stuffed mushroom appetizer and a bottle of wine.

“French thinks either she was so crazed for chocolate, she ate the s’more without realizing it had peanut butter on it, or she had a mad craving for peanut butter and gave in to it. Apparently her ex-husband said she had a thing for chocolate. French seems to think she met somebody on the beach about something else. And that person left the beach before Izabelle got sick. He thinks the pouch bag just fell off her arm on the way to the beach and she didn’t realize until too late that she didn’t have it.”

Mason leaned back in his chair. “Sunshine, I hate to say it, but it sounds reasonable. She seemed so controlled about everything, not even reacting when Adele accused her of stealing her work. Sometimes those supercontrolled types come unhinged.” The waiter brought the wine and had Mason taste it. Once he’d given his okay, the waiter poured us each a glass and left.

“Molly, why not just accept it was an accident? It lets you off the hook. An accident doesn’t have near the stigma a murder does.”

“I can’t help it.” I paused and sighed. “It happened on my watch, and I feel responsible.”

Mason’s eyes lit with a warm smile. “That’s what I love about you. Someone with scruples even when they’re not in your best interest.”

The waiter took our dinner order, and when he left, Mason looked at me intently. “So, Sherlock, who are your suspects? Maybe your compadre Adele?”

“My compadre?” I said with a laugh. “I wouldn’t exactly call her that.” I agreed that Adele had the most obvious motive, but while she was lots of things, I was sure she wasn’t a murderer.

I brought up Spenser Futterman and the reappearing pages. “There’s certainly something fishy with him and the woman who he claims is his niece or his cousin.”

“Did you tell Sergeant French that the maid ID’d him?”

“No, and I’m not going to. After his amateur sleuthing comment, I’m sure he wouldn’t pay any attention.” I mentioned the connections that Izabelle had with some of the others. Jeen admitted knowing her from before, and Jym had seemed to know her as well. I mentioned Commander Blaine’s postal center and the social events he planned for his customers. “Maybe there was more to their relationship than he said. Maybe he tried to be friendly and she blew him off. Maybe he took it badly,” I offered.

“What about the ex-husband?” Mason suggested.

“Interesting,” I said, brightening. “I was going to say that when I talked to him, he was in Tarzana. But who knows if he really was? I could have been calling him on his cell phone and he could have been anywhere. Even up here.”

“He certainly would have known about her peanut allergy,” Mason added.

The trouble was, there were a lot of possibilities, but nothing pointing to any one person. I reached for my wine-glass, and as I did, something appeared in my peripheral vision that made me almost drop it. I suddenly bent forward in the chair, doing my best to hide. Mason reacted, and I pointed toward a table by the windows. The host pulled out the chairs for Nora and Bennett.

“They can’t see me here,” I said under my breath. “How would it look after the number I did on her, trying to convince her how great the food is at Asilomar?” I could feel my shoulders hunching as I spoke. “That woman has done nothing but complain all weekend. She’ll make an issue about me leaving Asilomar to eat, and tell the others. I’ll never hear the end of it. Look, she even made a problem with your tai chi. What was that about?”

Mason waved his hand in front of my face to get my attention. “Molly, take a breath,” he said in a reassuring tone. “They’re not paying any attention to you. They’re so wrapped up in themselves, they won’t notice you. The thing at the beach was nothing. She said something about the damp sand bothering Bennett, so I moved us.”

I stole a look and realized he was probably right about them not noticing me. Nora had a pleased smile, no doubt because the waiter appeared to be fawning over them. At last they were getting the treatment she thought they deserved.

“She’s been so angry all weekend. Why did she even agree to come?”

Mason reminded me that I’d said something that made it obvious it hadn’t been her choice and that Bennett had agreed without consulting her.

“Okay, then why would he do it?”

“I don’t know, but I bet there’s something in it for him,” Mason said.

It sounded possible, and I started to nod in agreement when my cell phone began to ring. I’d recently adjusted it so it went right to ring and turned the volume up as high as it would go. I was afraid that otherwise I’d miss calls during the weekend. My ring of choice was a royal flourish that kept playing while I searched in my bag for it. It slipped out of my hand and landed on the floor before I finally retrieved it.

I hastily flipped it open to stop the noise.

“Hello,” I said in a low voice, praying that it wasn’t Dinah with a catastrophe. It was worse. It was Barry.

“Don’t hang up,” he said right after his initial hello. Several times before when he’d called, I just said I couldn’t talk and clicked off.

“This isn’t a good time,” I said, but Barry got my attention by saying it was something about my house. I sensed people coming from the side, and when I turned, the waiter and host were approaching.

“I’m sorry, but no cell phones in the dining room,” the host said in a low voice. I gave him an apologetic smile and flipped the phone shut. But before I could put it away, it began to ring again, and I noticed that I now had the attention of most of the diners.

“I’ll have to ask you to step out into the lounge,” the host said firmly, taking my arm in a helpful but determined manner.

I answered the phone to stop the ringing and accidentally hit the speaker phone button as I did. Barry’s voice blared out, demanding to know what was going on and not to hang up. I caught sight of Nora’s expression as I rushed toward the exit. She didn’t look happy to see me.

I slumped into one of the easy chairs in the lobby. “What is it?” I said, looking over my shoulder toward the dining room. Only a few people were still looking in my direction.

“What’s going on?” Barry said. “What were all those voices?”

Mason came out a moment later and said our dinner had just arrived.

“Who’s that?” Barry’s voice squawked as I tried to shut off the speaker phone feature.

Mason was chuckling as he headed back to the table after I told him I’d be there momentarily.

Detective Barry by now had figured out who the voice belonged to, and when someone from the bar came by and asked me if I’d like a drink, he made an educated guess that I wasn’t at Asilomar.

He sounded hurt, and I rushed to tell him about being too tense to eat, that being in charge was turning out to be more than I thought, particularly with Izabelle’s death, which I now believed was murder. “Mason was just trying to help release some of my tension.”

“I just bet he was,” Barry said in a low voice. “I can help you release some tension, too. Leave the investigating to the Pacific Grove PD.”

“How’d you know?” I finally asked him.

“I know you, Molly, and if you think it’s murder, you’re getting in the middle of it. Babe, it’s not your responsibility.” His voice softened. “I bet your shoulders are all hunched up. If I was there, I’d get the knots out.” I knew that Barry was clenching his jaw and probably pacing. “I don’t mean to add to your concerns, but when I stopped by your house, the dogs barely ate and didn’t care about going outside to play. It was almost as if they’d already been fed and someone had played a lot of fetch with them.” I pleaded ignorance and got off the phone quickly. Who knew Barry and my sons would all do their job?

When I finally came back to the table, Mason looked far too amused. “I never have fun like this with my other friends.”

I noted with relief that he didn’t say his other girlfriends. Even though technically I’m a girl and a friend, I’m not what the words used together connote. I knew Mason well enough to know his choice of words was no accident.

IT LOOKED LIKE ALL OF ASILOMAR WAS ASLEEP when we drove back through the entrance.

When we’d finally left the restaurant, after Mason talked me into having the super deluxe flaming bananas over ice cream, Nora and Bennett were having after-dinner drinks at their table. I think she must have been trying to delay going back as long as possible. No doubt this was the kind of place Nora thought they were coming to. All I could do was hope that neither Nora nor Bennett would mention where they’d seen me.

Mason thought I was overreacting, but I had been promoting the rustic accommodations and the hearty camp food, saying it was all part of the workshop atmosphere. How would it look if the retreaters knew I’d run off for flaming bananas over ice cream?

Mason walked me to my room and stopped. He reminded me that he was going to his aunt’s birthday brunch in Santa Cruz the next day.

“You’re welcome to join me,” he said in a soft voice. He didn’t argue when I said I couldn’t leave. His point wasn’t whether I went or didn’t go, but that he’d invited me. It was his way of telling me his definition of casual had changed. That had been the stumbling block when it looked like Mason and I were on the road to becoming a couple. When he’d made it clear that his idea of a casual relationship meant keeping his girlfriends separate from his family, I’d seen red. First, it sounded like he had a parade of women going through his life, and second, not being included in his family made any relationship seem kind of cheesy.

“Think about it,” he said before brushing my cheek with a soft kiss. Mason was persistent, but he didn’t push. Oh dear, just when I thought I had found a place in my life for both men, Mason had to go and confuse things.

No sooner had I closed my door than I heard a knock.

I knew it was Dinah before I opened the door. She must have been just sitting in her room, listening for footsteps.

“How was everything while I was gone?” I asked even before she stepped into the room.

“Fine. The charades were a big hit. Commander’s group made hot spiced cider and popcorn. He had one of those things you stick in the fire to make the popcorn.”

“What happened with your Ping-Pong game with Spenser? What did you find out?”

Dinah laughed. “Mostly that he is a much better Ping-Pong player than I am. Whenever I tried to ask him anything, he said he couldn’t play and talk. When we finally finished, he went back to trying to ask me questions. He was curious about the knitting couple for a moment or so, and then he lost interest. I brought up Izabelle again, and this time he admitted that maybe he did know her a little. Something about he’d seen her at the place where he has his mailbox.”

“Seen her, hah! He’s done more than that, according to Commander Blaine. He mentioned them talking. Commander isn’t sure what he does for a living,” I said.

Dinah looked disappointed. “I thought I was supposed to be getting the information.” When I told her I’d ended up talking to Commander because he was upset when he saw her with Spenser, she rolled her eyes. “Don’t you think he’s a little possessive, considering there’s really nothing between us?”

When I mentioned the whole thing about his late wife, Dinah started to soften, then seemed to reconsider. “I’m not saying the story about his wife is fake, but the whole thing about me being the first woman he’s been interested in—it’s flattering and all, but also sounds like a line.” Then she reconsidered again. “And maybe it isn’t a line. Maybe I’m a little uncomfortable with how open he is about being interested. But enough about that,” she said. “I have something to show you.” I hadn’t noticed the composition book in Dinah’s hand until she held it up.