Seams Like Murder (7 page)

“How many times did they have to ask me when I was last up in the guest apartment? And did I know who the victim was?” She turned her attention to me. “Most of the questions came from your Barry Greenberg and some other detective. Allen somebody. They were treating me like an outsider in my own house! They looked through everything and in every room. I suppose I should be grateful they didn’t dump all the drawers out.”

“First of all, he isn’t my Barry Greenberg anymore,” I said. “And when
was
the last time you were up in the guest apartment?”

CeeCee shook her head vehemently. “I don’t know. I think I went up there last week. That’s when Tony and I talked about it being a studio.” She paused for a moment, and her brow wrinkled. “But I’m sure the shutters were open, because I was thinking that we’d need to enhance the natural light. And the heat certainly wasn’t on. And if you’re going to ask me about who the victim is, all I can tell you is what I told the police. I don’t know.”

“Who has access to the place?” Rhoda asked. CeeCee seemed unhappy with the question.

“The cops asked me that, too. There’s Rosa, and she lets the pool man in, and the pest control guy. A handyman came by to do something to the garage door.” She hesitated. “And, well, Tony does.” She had never completely spelled out their relationship, and I had no idea how much time he actually spent there. I was trying to think of a nice way of asking if he lived there, but Rhoda beat me to the punch.

“Then Tony is living with you?” she said with a note of surprise.

CeeCee let out another heavy sigh. “When he lost the job on the soap opera—excuse me, continuing daytime series—he was devastated. I tried to tell him something would come along, but he wouldn’t listen. I had no idea his identity was so wrapped up in that one part. I like to think I have never done that. When my sitcom ended, I simply let it be known I was looking for work and that no job was too small. All those guest spots and cameos paid the bills and kept me in the public eye. And then I landed the part of Ophelia, and now I’m in demand again.” She fluttered her eyes. “He got it in his head that he wasn’t going to wait around for something to
come his way. He decided to get some control over his career, so he sold his place and is using the money to finance a web-only series. He’s been staying with me.” She checked the group for their reaction. Apparently Rhoda appeared a little judgmental. “Oh, so what? We’re both adults.” CeeCee rolled her eyes. “Can we get down to why we’re actually here?”

Sheila had been sitting silently at the table, crocheting with string. It was her own personal tranquilizing system—she wasn’t actually making anything; she was just using the repetitive motion to soothe herself. Now all eyes turned on her, and she put down the string and hook.

“If you can’t do it, just say the word,” Adele said, pulling out the strip of crochet she’d shown off earlier. Hers was made with a single strand of yarn that had color variations, giving it sort of a similar look to Sheila’s projects, but the colors weren’t as nice and the texture was different.

“C’mon, Sheila,” Rhoda said, glancing at her watch. “Just go ahead and do it. You’ve made lots of these pieces in this style.”

The rest of us offered her more encouragement, and Sheila finally went to the head of the table. She swallowed a bunch of times, so Dinah smiled at her and gave her a short pep talk, bringing up all the classes she taught at the community college and the reluctant students. “We’re all interested. And so will your students be interested. Think about it. They are so interested in learning from you, they are paying for the privilege.”

Instead of reassuring Sheila, that statement had the opposite effect. Her eyes grew big and round, and I could tell her breathing had gotten shallow.

“Show off the finished project first,” Rhoda said. She looked to Elise. “We’ll show you how.” I hadn’t noticed with all the commotion, but Rhoda and Elise had set out samples
of the projects from their upcoming classes. Elise picked up a scarf done in her favorite vampire style, and Rhoda ruffled through the assorted felted items she had set out before picking up a small multicolored bag and displaying it to the group.

“Say something about your piece when you show the class, dear,” CeeCee said to Sheila, trying to sound encouraging.

Adele stepped in. “Don’t hold up the finished piece to start with. Just tell them to pick up their yarn and show them what to do with it.” Adele followed her own instructions, holding up a skein of yarn and doing the first few stitches of her version of Sheila’s pattern.

“That’s not very helpful,” Rhoda said to Adele. “Don’t listen to her.” She had turned to Sheila, who was shaking her head and muttering to herself.

“I can’t do this,” she said in a breathless voice. With that, she turned and ran to the front of the store and out of the building.

“Maybe you should consider alternatives to Sheila,” Rhoda said. Sheila had left everything behind, including her emergency crochet kit. I had a feeling she had more than one, so I wasn’t too concerned. Adele crowded next to Rhoda and not too discreetly pulled out a completed “hug,” as Sheila’s design was being called. She slipped it over her head and modeled it for the group. The design lived up to its name, hugging her shoulders.

“That’s what I was saying,” Adele said. “We can’t take a chance of her having a meltdown in front of a class.”

“Don’t be so quick to write her off,” Dinah said. “I think that Sheila really wants to do it.” I was glad that my friend had stepped in. “We just need to work with her. It has been a rather stressful day for her and the rest of you. She’ll come around.”

“Amen to that,” CeeCee said. She hadn’t even taken out her crochet work. “The police have been at my place all day. There’s yellow tape around the whole garage now. Imagine,
my house, and I can’t even go in my own garage. What if I needed a rake or something?”

I looked at the group, and they were all struggling not to smile. CeeCee getting a rake? Would she even know which end you were supposed to use?

“The worst part is, they won’t tell me anything. Surely the police know if it was a man or woman. Poor Rosa had to stay late to answer all their questions. And it was very awkward for Tony. All I can say is that I’m glad they took the body away. They pulled an innocuous-looking white van up to the garage and took a gurney down the stairs. It looked like they wrapped the person in a garbage bag.”

“It’s called a body bag,” Dinah corrected. Babs came up and put her arm around CeeCee.

“C’mon, I’ll take you home. I’m sure everything is going to work out fine.” She went to pick up the empty brownie plate.

“I don’t suppose you have any more brownies hidden away somewhere.” CeeCee turned to the rest of us. “It’s for medicinal purposes only.”

“Sorry, no more brownies, but I have something else you might like. We’ll stop by my son’s house first. I made my famous chocolate cake for them, but it turns out they’re all going gluten free now.”

It was amazing how CeeCee perked up at the words
chocolate cake
. “Well, ladies, sorry it wasn’t a successful rehearsal, but hopefully Dinah is right and we’ll manage to work it out,” CeeCee said as Babs began to steer her to the door. It looked like Babs had found the purpose she was looking for—taking care of CeeCee. She was so nice and supportive. Iowa City must be a great place to live if it was filled with people like her.

The rest of the group started to gather up their things. Adele took the opportunity to throw in a last-minute pitch. “Since we don’t know if Sheila is going to get it together, I think we
should keep me in mind for an emergency backup,” Adele added. “I can step in on a moment’s notice.”

“I’d appreciate if you kept all this to yourself,” I said. Adele nodded knowingly.

“Don’t worry, my lips are sealed. Not a word to Mrs. Shedd.” She gave me an awkward hug. “Now that we’re doing Yarn University together.”

I saw Dinah rolling her eyes and trying not to laugh. Adele always wanted to be in charge. I’m not sure how my comment made her think we were now co-heads, but if it would help, I was all for it. The only thing I really cared about was that Yarn University was a success. Not whether I got sole credit.

Luckily, Adele had figured her duties as co-head were done for the night, and she left with Rhoda and Elise. Dinah had offered to hang around while I closed up, but I saw Commander Blaine standing outside the bookstore waiting for her and urged her to go.

It seemed strange being there alone so late. The café was all dark, and the chairs were on top of the tables. When I looked across the bookstore, I noticed that with most of the lights off, the bookcases made creepy shadows.

“Help, get me out of here,” a voice cried out. My immediate reaction was to make a run for the door, but then reality clicked in, and as the voice continued its plaintive cry, I realized it was my phone. I had a reputation for missing most calls on my cell phone. My son Samuel had been convinced it was because I didn’t hear it amidst all the similar rings. His solution had been to create a unique “ring,” which was him wailing for help in a cartoon character voice. Even with that I still mostly missed it, but the people around me didn’t, and I got some pretty weird looks when a voice calling for
help seemed to be coming from my purse. It sounded really eerie in the dark bookstore, and I flinched as I grabbed for the slippery phone.

“Sunshine, finally,” Mason said when I managed to swipe the screen to answer.

“I tried to call you,” I said.

“I know. I got your message, and I tried to call you back numerous times. Do you ever check your messages?”

“Oops.” Along with missing the calls, I also usually missed the voice mail notification.

“I was getting worried when it was so late and I couldn’t reach you anywhere. I was about to call out the cavalry,” he joked. He changed the subject, grumbling about still not being able to drive. “I can’t wait to be fully functioning again.” I offered my reassurance that it would be soon, but it didn’t do much good. Mason hated being dependent. He liked to be the doer. He was the one who had gotten in a helicopter and roared over to Catalina to rescue me when I’d been a prisoner on a boat, had shown up in Palm Springs when Adele and I had gotten in trouble, and came by with hot soup when I had the sniffles. He didn’t like being on the other side of it.

“I’m still at the bookstore,” I said. He knew about the rehearsal we’d planned for Sheila earlier in the day, but not the later one. There was so much to tell him that I didn’t know where to begin.

“Why don’t you come over now,” he said. “It’s probably too late to get any food delivered, but there’s lots of stuff in the freezer.” It sounded like a good idea. I could tell him about my day in person, and I knew he’d have a sympathetic ear and maybe some ideas. But then I heard voices in the background.

“Dad, Mom and I are going to make some fudge,” I heard
Brooklyn say. Jaimee chimed in and said that it was sugar-free, fat-free fudge, because unlike some people Mason knew, she and Brooklyn were concerned about their weight.

I think Mason had tried to cover the phone, but I heard it anyway. “How about a rain check?” I said. “Besides, I have a bunch of animals waiting for me.” I tried to make it sound light. Mason had his hands full with the two of them staying there, and I didn’t want to make it worse.

“Now maybe you understand why I tried to keep my social life away from my family,” he said. “Sunshine, if you won’t come over, at least tell me about your day. A body in CeeCee’s guest apartment?”

“Then you know,” I said, surprised and a little miffed. I’d looked forward to telling him about the whole thing.

“Know about it? Are you kidding? It was the breaking news story on the five o’clock and six o’clock news.”

By now I was at the front of the bookstore, and with the light coming in from outside, it seemed a lot less scary. I considered talking while I drove home, but the only way to do that in my vintage car was to have the cell phone set to speaker, sitting on the seat. Well, until it slid off and hit the floor. I decided to finish the call where I was.

“The womenfolk have moved on to the kitchen,” he said, and he let out a heavy breath. “Sunshine, I’m sorry about all of this. None of this is how I wanted things to go with us—”

“It’s not your fault about the accident,” I interrupted. It was bad enough that he’d had to endure all the pain of recovering without feeling guilty. And anyway, it absolutely wasn’t his fault. A car had made a left turn in front of him and hit his car with such force it had knocked it on its side. I still had the image of the flipped-over black Mercedes etched in my mind, and just thinking about it made me shudder.

“I’m sorry about Jaimee staying here. It certainly wasn’t
my plan to have my ex-wife moving in.” He let out a low chuckle at the absurdity of what he’d said. “Brooklyn knows all my buttons. She knows I still feel responsible for her mother. We were married a long time, and Jaimee’s family helped us when I was starting out. I promise they’ll be out of here as soon as possible. And then we’ll go on some fabulous trip and get away from all of this.”

There were times I wished Mason didn’t have so much character. But at the same time, I loved him for it. I was relieved when he changed the subject back to the mystery body.

“The news media really ate up the story. The entertainment shows were all over it, too. There were helicopter shots and reporters in front of her place.” Mason chuckled. “Now you know my embarrassing secret—I’ve been watching way too much daytime television since I’ve been stuck at home.” It was true I could hear the television in the background. He paused for a moment, and I surveyed the bookstore to make sure I wasn’t forgetting to do anything. “I suppose the place was swarming with detectives.” He paused, and I knew it was his way of asking if Barry was among them.

“Barry got the case,” I said. Was that a concerned grunt I heard coming from Mason? “CeeCee convinced me to call him directly. She didn’t want to call 911 and have the place swarming with sirens.”

“I see,” Mason said. “And I suppose he questioned you?”

“No, he turned me over to some uniform with no sense of humor. He didn’t crack a smile when I joked that I thought they ought to have my information on file by now.” I could hear the relief in the way Mason released a breath.

“I suppose you already have some thoughts on the case,” Mason said, the good cheer returning to his voice.

“It’s kind of hard to think anything without knowing who the victim is,” I said. “Except for one thing.” In all the
commotion something had flown from my thoughts, and now it returned.

“I’m waiting with bated breath,” Mason said.

“There’s something about the vest the victim was wearing.” And then I dropped my voice as I tried to remember what it looked like. “It looked really familiar, somehow, but I don’t know why.”

“You’ll figure it out. Probably when you least expect it,” he said. “So there’s no chance I can get you to reconsider and come over? Even when there’s the opportunity to sample some really awful fudge?”