A Stitch in Crime (5 page)

We were still on the landing at the top of the stairs when we heard some noise down below. We all looked over the railing. Nora and Bennett had walked into the living room and were looking around. More correctly, she was looking around and he’d dropped into one of the overstuffed chairs.

Izabelle seemed to stare at him.

“I’ll save you the trouble of wracking your brain where you know him from. That’s Bennett Franklyn. He plays the older brother on that
Raf Gibraltar
show.”

“I know who he is,” Izabelle said, still looking over the railing at him. “It’s just different seeing him in person.”

“He may look like the guy next door, but he has charisma at the same time,” I said. “And he’s certainly the peacock of the family.” I caught sight of Nora’s face. She might make lots of noise, but her appearance was surprisingly drab. She had brown hair you couldn’t attach a fancy adjective to, like mink or chestnut. It was cut in a short, no-fuss, kind of style. She definitely had a light touch when it came to makeup, and though I wouldn’t call her fat by any means, in the size zero world of Hollywood, others probably would.

Nora paced in front of the fireplace, appearing agitated. “This won’t do.”

Bennett stood and touched her arm with tenderness. “Don’t fret so, hon. It won’t kill us to spend a weekend here. And the payoff is worth it.”

Payoff? I wondered what he meant.

Izabelle pushed the tote bag on her arm. “Well, ladies, see you later.”

“I thought we’d all meet up at dinner,” I said. “It’ll give all the workshop leaders a chance to get to know each other.”

“Right,” Izabelle said before going downstairs. She walked up to the Hollywood couple and introduced herself.

I heard her tell Bennett that she liked his show.

“Let’s find our rooms,” I said as we left our post and went down a dark, wood-paneled hallway. Our rooms were adjacent in the front corner of the building. Just before I went inside mine, I glanced down the corridor. A short man with a head shaped like a brick was walking down the hallway looking at room numbers. He stopped in front of a door and rapped impatiently, but no one answered. Dinah noticed him, too. He must have felt he was being watched, because he looked up abruptly and stared back at us. The anger in his expression sent a shiver up my spine.

“Is he one of our people?” she asked.

“I hope not,” I said, opening my door. My cell began to ring as I went inside.

“BABE, WE WOULD HAVE WORKED SOMETHING out,” Barry said. He’d called to make sure I arrived okay and to let me know he had gone over to take care of the dogs. I had just finished giving him the rundown on my accommodations, which would have been our accommodations, had Mrs. Shedd not dropped the weekend in my lap.

“You’re saying that because you’re not here looking at this room.” I let my eyes sweep it again. “Did I mention no TV or telephone, though since everybody has a cell these days, that’s neither here nor there.”

Barry laughed. “I had planned to do much better things in the room than watch TV.”

“Okay, but the twin beds are the narrowest twin beds I’ve ever seen. One is under the windows on the side wall and the other is on the back wall.”

“I’m good at moving furniture,” Barry said.

“Not in this room. It’s way too small. And it’s kind of cold in here.” I looked around for a heat source, which there wasn’t.

“I would have kept you warm,” Barry said in a low voice. “I can still come up there.”

I hesitated, but only for a second. “No, let’s leave it as it is. I can tell this is going to be a no-fun weekend.” He accepted what I said but didn’t sound happy as he signed off.

I unpacked and did a little damage control to my appearance. I had just put down my hairbrush when I heard the dinner bell ring. Dinah heard it too and we met in the hall. I looked upon dinner as the official beginning of the retreat. The air was heavy with moisture and seemed to be getting more opaque and colder as Dinah and I headed to the dining hall. It was hard to believe it was hot and clear in Tarzana. I had forsaken my usual khaki slacks and shirt for the jeans, black turtleneck, and black corduroy blazer Dinah had suggested as the perfect casual, yet with a touch of authority, look. I was glad I’d added the long, red wool scarf. It was one of my earliest crochet creations, and wearing it wound around my neck added a nice touch of warmth.

The cavernous dining room was almost empty, and there was no problem snagging a couple of the large round tables for our group. Across the room a group of birders from Arizona were having their farewell dinner, and a sprinkling of guests not connected with any group were scattered around some tables in another corner.

I clutched the rhinestone clipboard for courage and straightened the pile of packets I’d brought to give out. Bennett Franklyn was the first to arrive—alone.

“Where’s Nora?” Dinah asked.

“She brought some food to our room,” he said with a friendly smile. “It’s been a tough day for her. I hope it isn’t a problem, but we changed our accommodations. We’re in Long View now.” He vaguely pointed off in the distance.

Thanks to Adele and Commander’s tour, I knew Long View was on the edge of Asilomar, and though the long building had a weathered look similar to Lodge, it was actually much newer. The rooms were a little larger and the wide windows had a view of the ocean. If it kept the peace, it was fine with me.

As our group began to filter in, I handed out packets and pointed out the cafeteria line in the back. Commander and Bennett headed for the line together. Dinah offered to get food for both of us, and Izabelle said she’d already eaten. She sat down and helped herself to the pitcher of iced tea in the center of the table.

I glanced at the rhinestone clipboard. I had placed check marks next to Bennett Franklyn for the acting workshop, Commander Blaine for entertaining, Dinah for memoirs and Izabelle Landers for crochet and fusion. I was still looking for Jeen Wolf and her husband. She was doing the knitting workshop, and I guessed he was along for the ride. Mrs. Shedd hadn’t given me the name of the tai chi replacement teacher; she’d just crossed out Master Riki and written in TBA.

Bennett and Commander were talking about parties when they returned carrying plates of steaming food. “Personally, I find all those black-tie events boring, but my wife likes them,” Bennett said, setting his plate on the table before pulling out a chair. Apparently dinner consisted of meat loaf, mashed potatoes, and succotash. There was a thick layer of gravy over everything.

Commander was listening, but his eyes were on Dinah as she set down two plates of food and pulled out a chair. He nodded toward the spot next to her.

“Is this seat taken?” he asked in a hopeful voice. I knew Dinah well enough to read her expression. She wanted to say it was, but she also didn’t want to make problems. She pulled out the chair and invited him to sit. I had forgotten to ask her about her earlier reaction to him. It certainly mystified me.

Dinah announced she was going back for rolls. Commander urged her to sit, and took off to get them. She rolled her eyes. Somebody needed to tell him not to try so hard.

Izabelle moved until she was next to Bennett. Commander came back with the rolls, and Izabelle glanced up at him. Commander’s reaction surprised me. I thought he would smile at her in acknowledgment, but instead his eyes narrowed. In turn she gave a little toss of her head, which I took to indicate that she knew him but dismissed him as unimportant.

“I bet you could give me some pointers,” she said to Bennett, explaining her upcoming tour and TV appearances.

“Sure,” he said in a friendly voice. I let out a sigh of relief. So far, so good. Or maybe not.

Adele sailed into the dining hall with Sheila trailing behind her. Adele had changed out of her forest ranger look and was in full crochet embellishment mode down to the cloche hat with the two-tone flower. She flipped her mohair shawl over her shoulder as she put dibs on the chair on the other side of Izabelle. Sheila stopped next to me, looking pale and tense. With her nerves, it was no wonder. Sharing a tiny room with Adele couldn’t be fun. I handed her a name tag. Technically Adele and Sheila weren’t workshop leaders, but I looked upon them as support staff. Adele picked up her name tag and the two of them went off to get food.

A couple hesitated at the entrance to the dining hall. Even if they hadn’t been together, I would have known they were a couple. They were both tall and lanky, and had the same very straight posture. Both had neatly trimmed hair, though the colors were very different. Hers was such a dark brown, it was almost black, and was perfectly straight except for slightly turning under as it grazed the bottoms of her ears. She had thick, straight-across bangs. His hair and close-cropped beard were wheat colored.

They were dressed alike, too. Both wore classic waist-high jeans that hung loosely over their slender frames, and topped them with heavy, gray cable-knit cardigans. I could just make out the writing on their tucked-in tee shirts:
Knitters Make the Best Lovers
. I thought the shirts were kind of funny since they both looked so prim.

Adele was already on the way back with her dinner. In hopes of avoiding a war between the knitters and her, I steered them toward the empty table and introduced myself.

“Jeen Wolf,” the woman said, holding out her hand.

“And I’m Jym,” the man said, standing next to her. “Or as we like to call ourselves—”

“A couple of knitters,” they said in unison with a flourish. Adele was within earshot, and I thought she was going to choke.

“So you’re both knitters. My list only had Jeen,” I said, holding out one packet.

“I like to think I’m the bonus,” Jym said with a wink, and added that one packet would be fine for both of them. They glanced at the other presenters. Jeen’s expression changed when her gaze reached Izabelle. “Izabelle Pilsen?” Jeen said. Izabelle seemed startled as she turned toward the voice.

“It’s Izabelle Landers now,” she said once she’d seen who’d spoken.

“I barely recognized you,” Jeen said. “You must have lost, what, twenty pounds?”

Was it my imagination, or was there an edge in Jeen’s voice?

“Give or take a few pounds,” Izabelle said, trying to shrug off the comment. “It’s been a long time. I was just showing off my crochet book,” Isabelle said, picking up the copy and handing it to Jeen. “What about you? What have you been up to?” I was just guessing, but I thought Izabelle already knew the answer to her question, and whatever Jeen had been doing, it didn’t measure up to Izabelle’s achievements. Jeen muttered something about having to catch up later. After taking the book from his wife, Jym nodded a greeting to Izabelle and handed the book back to her. She gave him a knowing smile, and he looked away quickly. I hoped that didn’t mean there was going to be some kind of drama involving the three of them.

The awkward moment was made even more awkward as Adele stepped in the couple’s faces. “I just want you to know that for this weekend, crocheters rule. None of that ‘knitting and crochet.’ Any references will be to ‘crochet and knitting.’ Okay?”

The Wolfs seemed taken aback by Adele’s pronouncement and watched her flounce back to her seat. “She’s a little intense,” Jeen said.

I tried to smooth things over by introducing the new arrivals to the rest of the group. Jym knew who Bennett was right away. He was a fan of the show and started reeling off all the clever devices that had been on the show lately. I didn’t have to introduce Commander Blaine.

“You have the copy shop, right?” Jym said, extending his hand.

Commander’s cheerful expression wavered and recovered. “It’s a complete office and mailing center. But my workshop is all about entertaining.”

The rest of the introductions went without incident, and the Wolfs got their food and joined the others. A short time later one of the kitchen employees came from the other side of the room with a cart of vacuum pots of coffee and slabs of candy-bar-topped cheesecake.

My plate of food was still untouched, and I left it on a tray stand. The woman made the rounds with her cart, leaving everyone but Izabelle with a piece of the cheesecake.

“She probably heard how many calories and almost fainted,” Dinah said when she accepted a piece. She took one for me as well and set it on the table, even though I hadn’t eaten my dinner. I glanced over the rhinestone clipboard. All the presenters were accounted for except the tai chi person.

When everyone had finished dessert and coffee, I stood up and gave my little welcoming speech. I said the retreaters would be arriving throughout the next morning, and the workshops would begin after lunch. Commander Blaine raised his hand, and when I gestured for him to speak, he stood.

“I just wanted to add that in addition to my workshops on entertaining, I’ll be putting on little events during the weekend. The first is the campfire and s’mores reception.”

As he continued, describing how most people just thought of the regular ingredients of milk chocolate, marshmallows, and graham crackers, he took the concept to a new gourmet level. I tuned out, as I imagined everyone else did, as he ran through the different variations on the common camping treat. When he finished, I took the floor again. I’d been dreading dropping the bomb, but there was no choice. I broke the news that Mrs. Shedd had promised a local shelter that the retreat would donate handmade afghans. Izabelle and the Wolfs responded as I’d expected. They already had plans for their workshops, and there wasn’t enough time over the weekend.

Adele stepped in—or, more correctly—overstepped her boundaries. “I’m sure the crocheters will figure out a way to come up with something.” Izabelle and the Wolfs glared at her. I quickly asked if anyone else had any announcements, and when there were none, the group broke up. Dinah and I hung behind to finish our coffee and cake. At least, she ate cake. I just had coffee.