Knot Guilty (18 page)

“It's not for the store. I need thread and beads. And I need them now.”

He shook his head. “There's nobody there to fill the order today. When I went there yesterday, I just picked up the order.” I saw him looking in the direction of his grandmother. “I'm not so sure she'd let me leave, anyway.”

“When I said I would only deal with you, your grandmother took you off gofer duty and made you a salesman,” I said. I didn't say it, but I implied he might owe me some extra consideration.

He looked at the drinks he was carrying, and his face clouded over. “You're right. I'm a sales representative. I don't do drinks.” He paused and then added, “Except for this time.”

I watched as he stood up straight and suddenly grew an inch or two. Nodding to himself, he said, “I'll just tell her I am taking care of one of our customers. A good sales representative takes care of their customers, right?” I nodded in agreement. “I'll just go up to the warehouse and grab some thread myself.” His voice sounded a little shaky on the last part.

“Why don't I go with you?” I said. It wasn't that I exactly lacked confidence in his ability to find what we needed, but I thought it would be better if I were there.

Paxton appeared uncertain. “I'm not sure Gran would like it.”

“And I'm sure she wouldn't like it if you brought the wrong kind of thread for a customer.”

“You're right.” His eyes grew troubled. “Gran's got a memory like an elephant. If she found out I'd made a mistake I'd never hear the end of it.” He still seemed a little uncertain.

“Maybe the best option is not to even tell her,” I suggested.

“Right, that's a good idea,” he said, brightening. I quickly added that I wanted to bring Dinah along since she was the one running the pin making and would know best about the thread we needed. “Since Gran isn't going to know, I guess it's okay.”

We agreed on a time and I let him go to deliver the drinks.

With that settled, I couldn't resist. I had to see Adele in action.

I stepped to the end of the aisle where I could keep an eye on the booth and see all the way to the stage and catwalk at the end of the room. Eric and his mother were in the small crowd that had gathered as Delvin introduced Adele. First she did a few minutes on crochet in general, saying it was the best yarn craft, et cetera. Then she explained that Tunisian crochet was done on a long hook, and unlike regular crochet, where you worked one stitch at a time, in Tunisian crochet you worked a whole row of stitches. Then she reminded the audience of her class that afternoon, saying she heard there was just one spot open. That was Adele the salesperson. She surveyed the crowd and smiled when she saw several people rush over to the administration table, presumably to sign up.

I hadn't realized how big a bag she'd picked up from the booth until now. “I'll need two chairs,” she said to Delvin. I don't think he liked being treated like a stagehand, but he obliged. She plunked the huge bag on one and sat on the other. What had she brought? I was almost afraid to watch. A moment later she extracted a very big Tunisian crochet hook. It must have been an inch in diameter and a foot long. The yarn she took out was as thick as a sausage, and the roll of it was an armload. “I decided to go big so you could all see what I was doing,” Adele said.

I don't know if it was the ridiculously large size of the tools or curiosity about Tunisian crochet, but she'd gotten everyone's attention. They must have been as fascinated as I was to see what she was going to do.

I had to hand it to Adele. She'd figured out a way to win the audience over. At least most of them. I could only see Eric and his mother from the back, but her body language was a giveaway. She looked like she had one foot out the door.

I waited until Adele finished her act and came back to the booth, then I announced I was leaving. You'd think I was abandoning her on a chunk of ice floating in the Arctic. She looked panicked and seemed to have suddenly remembered that she was a suspect in K.D.'s death.

“Nobody is going to bother you,” I said, leaving out why I was so sure. Adele became even more upset when I said Dinah was coming with me. We were out of supplies, so there couldn't be any pin making anyway, and since it sounded like we were going to have to find what we needed ourselves, I wanted Dinah's help.

Luckily, as we left, Adele forgot her panic and stepped into the role of proprietor. I heard her ordering Elise around, and Sheila had just shown up.

Dinah and I passed the Cline Yarn International booth. Paxton was helping a customer, and I gestured that we'd be waiting by the door. I couldn't help but notice that Ruby Cline was off in a corner of their oversize space talking to a man in a suit. I really wished I could hear the conversation. I nudged Dinah. “He's either a cop or a lawyer.”

Dinah looked closer. “I'm voting for a lawyer. The suit looks a little pricey for a cop.”

Paxton caught up with us, and I asked him about his grandmother's company. He glanced back at their booth and shrugged. “She kept me out of it. I think maybe he's some guy she met online. You know, at one of those dating sites. I heard her talking on the phone about some boyfriend.” He rolled his eyes, and Dinah and I both tried to get a better look at him.

“So she likes younger men,” Dinah said. “Though I'd be careful if I were her. Maybe get a background check,” Dinah said to Paxton. I figured the chance of his passing the advice on to his grandmother was about zero.

We'd decided to go before lunchtime while the classes were still in session and the crowd in the vendor area was lighter. I don't know what Paxton actually told his grandmother, but he seemed kind of nervous. He said he'd drive and took the van with “Cline Yarn International, Inc.” on the side.

The business was located in a business park in Chatsworth, and since it was Saturday, the whole area was deserted. He pulled right in front of the single-story, plain-looking white building. It was dead inside, and the extreme quiet seemed a little eerie. We walked into a reception area, and I did a double take, thinking there were people lurking in the shadows.

“They're just mannequins,” I said with a nervous laugh when I looked a little closer and noted their eyes didn't move. Paxton explained they were all wearing samples of things made out of Cline Yarn. Then he added it had been his idea. The wall had an artful display of framed items. Paxton was hurrying us along, but I looked at them long enough to see that they were ads for Cline Yarn from magazines. He shepherded us behind the reception counter and back into the warehouse. He flipped on the lights, and it was like we'd just found ourselves in yarn heaven. Everywhere I looked there were wire bins of yarn in glorious colors.

Paxton looked around as if he had no idea where to start. “We don't usually carry beads, but I think Gran got some samples the other day.” He turned to the left and opened a door to an office. We waited for him to turn on the lights and then followed him inside. The office had the look of someone who really worked in it rather than had it just for show. The white desk and computer were the only things without color in the room. Wire bins of yarn were scattered about the room. Swatches were stuck to a corkboard on the wall. I noticed a basket with some balls of yarn and the beginnings of something pale yellow with the knitting needles stuck into the yarn. Some large pots of plants got their light from a tall window that looked out on a patch of grass next to the parking lot. Paxton took a small box off the table in the corner and showed us the contents. They were small pearls, and I said they would do fine.

“They're just some samples we got. We're not going to carry them, and Gran told me to get rid of them, so you can just have them, no charge. I'll go look for the thread,” he said, trying to give the image of being in charge. We offered to help, but he said we better stay there. Something about insurance rules dictating who could be in the warehouse.

When he left, Dinah started ogling all the yarn. I took a closer look at the desk and noticed a stack of old photographs on it. Nosy should be my middle name, because I started looking through them. The black-and-white prints seemed fine, but the color ones had faded and turned odd shades. I was going to comment on what a relic film and prints had become, but one of the pictures caught my eye.

The picture featured a group of women as if they were in a club or organization. As I examined the faces, I stopped on one with a start. It was clear by the clothes and hairstyles that the photo had been taken decades ago. How could Lacey Kirby possibly be in it? I looked again and this time imagined the dark hair white and a face with a little more character, and I realized it was a young K.D. I examined it more closely and saw they were gathered on the lawn of a big house that had some Greek letters on the front. Of course, a sorority. I was beginning to wonder why Ruby Cline would have a picture of K.D. Kirby as a young woman when I noticed the woman on the end. I was going to ask Dinah what she thought, but Paxton came in and saw the figure on the end I was pointing at.

“That's Gran,” Paxton said, looking over my shoulder. He seemed puzzled that I was looking at the pictures, and I said something about being fascinated with photography. I used it as an excuse to look through the rest of the pile before it could register that I was snooping. I stopped on another photo from about the same time, but of a man and a young Ruby. The way the man had both of his arms wrapped around Ruby made it clear that he was her boyfriend. With Paxton hanging over me, I moved even faster through the rest of the pictures. I couldn't help myself from stopping on one of the prints. Even though there was no white dress or veil, I could tell it was a wedding shot. Maybe it was their expressions, and maybe it was the little bouquet of carnations the woman held as they stood in front of the Van Nuys courthouse. They looked young and starry-eyed, and I got the feeling they'd eloped.

“I don't know why Gran keeps that picture. She gets mad every time she looks at it even though it was a long time ago. I told you she has a memory like an elephant. We better get going,” Paxton said, reaching to take the photos from me. I took a last close look at the wedding shot. The bride was K.D. and the groom was the man from the picture of Ruby and her apparent boyfriend. A thought stirred in my mind. Hadn't CeeCee said something about a rumor that K.D. had stolen one of her sorority sisters' boyfriends and married him? Paxton suddenly snatched the handful of photos and put them back.

“I shouldn't have left you in here,” he said with a nervous edge to his voice. “We have to go.” Dinah insisted on inspecting the contents of the bin he'd brought in. Paxton was clearly impatient and flipped the lid off to give her only a quick glimpse before he dropped the box of beads in with the different colored orbs of crochet thread. She asked about other colors. “This is the only thread we have. Do you want it or not?” Dinah nodded, and he herded us out of there and quickly snapped off the lights and shut the door.

Dinah and I traded glances as we got back into the van. Something was definitely up with Paxton. The whole reason we'd come along was to make sure what they had would do for the pins and pick the colors. It had to be the photos.

“Your grandmother and K.D. were friends.” I said it as somewhere between a statement and a question. Paxton responded by putting the van in gear and stepping on the gas so hard, both Dinah and I had to hold on to our seats.

Paxton kept the speed up as he turned out onto Plummer Street and headed east. I could just see the side of his face, but he appeared uncomfortable. When we stopped at a red light, he turned to me. “I know you're into that amateur detective thing, but don't start reading anything into anything.”

“So then you know that your grandmother knew K.D.,” I said and he winced.

“If I tell you everything I know will you promise not to bother Gran?”

“It's not me you should be worried about. Do the cops know your grandmother and K.D. go way back and, it's just a guess, but it looks like K.D. ended up with your grandmother's boyfriend?”

“Okay, I knew Gran knew K.D. I don't know why, but they seemed to have been talking to each other a lot lately. But Gran had nothing to do with her death,” he said. “I'm sure of that.”

I wasn't sure if he had some kind of real proof or it was just him commenting on her character. “Do you know where your grandmother was Thursday afternoon when everything quieted down?”

“I know what you're asking me,” he said, taking a corner a little too fast.

Dinah suggested he pull over and let her drive. He was reluctant but did as she suggested. Though when they went to change seats, I thought he was going to take off, but he finally climbed into the jump seat in the back.

He put his head down when I turned around in my seat to face him. “Why don't you just tell me what you know,” I said, borrowing one of Barry's interrogation lines.

Paxton blew out his breath and took a couple of deep ones before he finally answered.

“I'm not supposed to know, but she went up to K.D.'s suite.”

“Are you going to talk to Ruby Cline?” Dinah asked. As soon as we'd gotten back to the event center, Paxton had rushed on ahead of us and was already back in their booth helping a customer by the time Dinah and I were passing it. I came to a full stop and glanced into the Cline Yarn International booth.

“I'd really like to ask her some questions,” I said. A look of panic came over Paxton's bland face as he saw us standing there. His eyes darted toward his grandmother, who was talking to a customer and oblivious to his concern. Paxton waved his hand in the universal gesture that meant go away, and the rapid way he did it meant he wanted us to do it quickly.

“But I think Paxton would tackle me if I tried to speak to his grandmother. Besides, we need to tend to our own business right now anyway,” I said. We were carrying bags of the crochet thread and beads Paxton had given us and continued on to our own booth. Even with the pin making sign down, there were several women lounging around the front asking Adele about making them. “It's about time,” Adele said, looking up at us with relief. “I did what I could, but everybody wants to make those pins.” There was a line before we even put the sign back up.

“I'm not making packets anymore. We'll just cut the thread as we go,” I said, taking off a length of rosy pink crochet thread and rolling it around my fingers. As soon as I pulled it across the hidden cutting edge of the pendant, I handed the coil of thread to one of the women. Dinah doled out some tiny pearls. I was glad when Adele picked up the orbs of thread and said she would help. I let Dinah and her handle the enterprise.

For a moment I watched the passing crowd. This definitely seemed to be the prime time for the show. I could barely see the Knit Style yarn booth across the way. There was a break in the crowd, and I saw Lacey Kirby walking slowly with her head down. Her eyes were locked on the screen of her smartphone, and she was busy tapping away. No doubt a tweet about the show.

It occurred to me that she would probably know something about her mother's relationship with Ruby Cline. I called out her name and she looked up. I had never been officially introduced to her, so I began with that and then offered my sympathies about her mother. I could tell she had already dealt with a lot of condolence offerings because she seemed to have an automatic response.

“Thank you very much for your concern. My mother was quite a woman.” Lacey started to move on, but I put my hand on her arm to stop her. It would have seemed a little odd if I went right into asking about the relationship between Ruby Cline and her mother, so I asked something Adele would have appreciated.

“I'm just curious,” I began. “Your mother added crochet to the show, but it still seemed like she was trying to ignore it. Do you have any idea why?”

The question caught Lacey off guard. It wasn't something she could give an automatic answer to. She shrugged and seemed mystified. “I have no idea. But then she did a lot of things I didn't understand.” It seemed like she was looking in the direction of the stage and catwalk where Delvin was droning on.

“Do you have any family to help you during this difficult time?” I asked. She shook her head.

“I'm an only child. The closest thing I have to anyone helping me deal with this is Mother's lawyers, and they're sorting through everything.”

I asked about her father and she made a face. “Some people aren't meant to be wives or mothers. K.D. was one of them. My father was her second husband. I think the marriage lasted six months. I never had much of a relationship with him and I certainly won't now. He died a couple of years ago.”

I was trying to look interested, but not too interested. So, her father wasn't Ruby Cline's ex-boyfriend. I casually asked about K.D.'s first husband. “That marriage lasted a couple of years. I think my mother was angry and hurt that he left her for someone else. But she once said that maybe it was payback because he had left someone else for my mother.”

It was hard for Lacey to keep her gaze off her smartphone, and she snuck a look and made a tsk-tsk sound before tapping something in. “My mother was so stuck in her ways. I tried to tell her she should have digital versions of the magazines, but she said that wasn't going to happen under her watch.”

I took a chance and brought up Ruby Cline, asking Lacey if she knew whether her mother was acquainted with the woman. Lacey gave me an odd look. “Go figure. They were college buddies but then didn't speak for years, until recently.” In the background Delvin was giving some spiel, and Lacey looked angry.

“He doesn't get it. Maybe he was supposed to step in if my mother got sick or worse. But it's only temporary. When everything gets sorted out, I'm sure my mother's wishes were for me to take over. I don't know how to knit or crochet, but I went to business school and I know how to be a boss.”

I didn't know quite how to respond, so I just nodded and said I was sure everything would work itself out. Lacey's smartphone began to make noise, and she muttered something about having to tweet that Audrey Stewart was a yarn goddess. She started typing the message as she nodded a farewell and went across the aisle to the Knit Style booth without looking up once.

A group finished making their granny square pins and wanted to buy supplies so they could make more of them at home, and I was suddenly busy ringing up sales. As fast as the women had left the table, new people had taken their place.

I had been tuning out Delvin's endless narration, but then he said something that caught my attention.

“We've got a special treat for you,” he began. “You might not recognize his name, but I know you will all recognize his face, and maybe his chest. Eduardo Linnares is not only a former cover model and commercial spokesperson but he is also an expert in something called Irish crochet. It's all lace to me,” Delvin said with an intonation that indicated it was supposed to be a joke.

A titter went through the crowd. Rhoda had just come into the booth, and she agreed to watch over things for a few minutes. I had to see this. Eduardo had been in the booth on Thursday evening and was to return this afternoon. I hadn't realized he was doing a demo, too.

Adele appeared out of the crowd and stood next to me. “Pink, I told you I'd take care of things. This Delvin guy is so much easier to work with.”

Just then Eduardo made his way up to the stage and down the catwalk, which put him in the center of the growing crowd. No pirate or cowboy outfit today. He was in firefighter attire down to the boots. The outer coat was open as was the denim work shirt to midway down his chest. The firefighter helmet threw a shadow on his strong jaw and model good looks.

There was something about watching his big hands take out a tiny steel hook and some fine white crochet thread and then begin making a delicate flower motif that still struck me as amazing. What the crowd didn't know was that Eduardo was so much more than a pretty face. His Irish grandmother, having no granddaughters to teach, had taught him how to do the lacy patterns of Irish crochet. He'd been a member of our group for a long time and took part in all our activities and fiascoes.

I heard Adele making grumbly noises next to me. “How come he has a much bigger crowd than I did when I did my demo?”

“Do you really not get why?” I said, turning to her to see if she was serious. She was.

Eduardo stopped his crocheting and brought out some finished samples of Irish crochet. An appreciative aah went through the crowd when he held up what he called a wedding shawl made up of the standard motifs of flowers and leaves joined together by chains made of stitches almost too tiny to make out. Eduardo had a sense of humor and made some jokes about his outfit.

Actually, he could have said anything and they would have listened with rapt attention. The best part is that he did a pitch for our booth and said he'd be offering free crochet lessons.

Delvin stopped next to us. He surveyed the crowd around us and their reaction to Eduardo. I guess he was used to being the rooster around so many hens, and I could see he was jealous of the attention Eduardo was getting.

“Maybe I should try one of those Stetsons like he wore yesterday,” he said half to himself. The audience didn't want Eduardo to leave, and women kept asking questions and suggesting he crochet more. Finally, when he stepped down, they crowded around him, wanting pictures with him.

Delvin had started to pout, and I realized this was my chance to talk to him about K.D. and Ruby. Since he acted like he was practically K.D.'s right arm, he probably knew something.

It was always hard to know how to start. Since I was not a real detective, I had no cred to just start asking questions. I had discovered that acting like a busybody worked pretty well. As soon as I brought up K.D., Delvin got very defensive. “I told the cops everything I knew. But I don't think they were satisfied. They kept asking me the same stuff over and over.”

I pulled him over to the edge of the room where it was quieter. Before I could bring up Ruby, he began with his details of what happened. He stopped for a moment and cocked his head. “I know you have an in with that Detective Greenberg. I'm going to tell you exactly what happened so you can tell him again in case he can't read his notes.”

I started to object, but Delvin didn't buy it. “I saw him talking to you. I know that look he was giving you.” I decided it was useless to argue about it and like before with Dinah it would sound like I was protesting, too. And even more, I wanted to hear what Delvin had to say.

“It was crazy all day,” he began. “But then it is always that way before the start of the show. Glitches and problems. I told K.D. to let me handle it, but she was insistent on being in the middle of things, even more than usual. You probably saw the problem she had with a woman who comes into the shop, Julie. No matter how she tried to change that jacket, it's just like the one she entered last year. Except, of course, for the crochet on it. I was surprised she even showed up after the way K.D. outed her at the studio.

“And there was that whole problem about Rain and her booth. She's a regular at the show. I thought that K.D. was going to be a hardhead about it, but she reached me on my cell and told me to work out a better location for her.”

He moved on to the confrontation between Audrey Stewart and K.D. “Well, it was more between her attorney, who seems to be another friend of yours,” he said with a little too much emphasis on the word
friend
. “I don't know why K.D. was so adamant on pressing charges against her, particularly when these days, actresses like Audrey are ending up in real jails.” He shuddered at the thought.

I didn't say it, but I was pretty sure that was the point. K.D. had wanted to see Audrey behind bars. “Not that she consulted me on any of it. You'd think as her right-hand person she'd include me. But no. There was something going on. People looking through the books and asking a lot of questions. I tried to find out what was happening, but she said I was imagining things.” He seemed at the end of his spiel, and I took the opportunity to ask about Ruby. “Of course they knew each other. She has a yarn business and we have knitting magazines and a major yarn studio.” But when I asked if it was personal, he shrugged it off, saying he didn't think so. He noticed that Eduardo had finally broken free of the crowd, and Delvin went to reclaim his microphone.

Eduardo went by and a whole crowd trailed behind him. Adele and I took a shortcut and got to the booth first. As he stepped behind the table with Rhoda for the free crochet lessons, we were inundated with business. The pin people got relegated to the end of the table, though they seemed more interested in watching what was going on with the crocheting firefighter.

I watched Adele watch how much attention Eduardo was generating. There was a little gleam in her eye as she moved in on his territory. She had slipped on the wrap that was the project in her upcoming class and was basically hanging all over Eduardo, pretending her curled hand was a hose and she was dousing a fire as she kept announcing that her class would be starting soon and she thought she might be able to sneak in a few more people.

When that didn't have much effect, she crouched next to him as he gave an up-close demo of the Irish crochet. Adele was so busy cuddling up to Eduardo, she'd stopped paying attention to the crowd in front. Until there was a loud throat clearing. “I wonder if Eric knows what kind of a hussy you are,” Leonora Humphries said in a loud voice.

Adele bolted upright, knocking Eduardo's helmet off and exposing his glossy black hair and ponytail. “Mother Humphries, this isn't what it looks like,” Adele said. “Whatever Eduardo and I had together was in the past.” She said it in a dramatic tone like it was coming out of one of the romance novels Eduardo had been the cover model of. Anything between them was strictly in Adele's imagination. Eduardo, ever the nice guy, tried to play along by saying there'd always be a place in his heart for her.