A Stitch in Crime (28 page)

I stepped closer to examine the jacket, but couldn’t find any knitting on it and finally asked him why there was no knitting.

“Why would it have knitting?” he said, seeming perplexed. I mentioned the title of Izabelle’s book,
The Needle and the Hook.
His face relaxed into a smile. “The hook is for crochet and the needle is for sewing. I called my book
The Hook and Eye,
as in eye of the needle. He took the jacket off the dress form and showed how the body of the jacket was fabric, but the sleeves and trim around the neck were crochet.

After that, everyone started talking. Adele wanted to make sure the photo of her was flattering. Eduardo wanted to tell Marni how tough it was being taken seriously as a crocheter. CeeCee wanted to make sure there was no mention of her in the article. She tried to avoid any negative press. And I looked at my watch and shrieked. I still had hair that looked like it had been electrified, and it was almost time for the grand finale of the weekend.

It turned out I wasn’t the only one with some final preparations to do for the party, and after inviting Spenser and Marni to join the gathering, everyone quickly dispersed.

NO FOG OR MISTY SKY THIS TIME AS I STEPPED outside Lodge and headed for Merrill Hall. The sky was a brilliant orange and the trees had turned into silhouettes. I had done some quick work with a hairbrush, put on fresh makeup, and changed into the black jean outfit I had worn for my dinner with Mason. Now that the mystery of the fusion craft and just who Spenser and Marni were was settled, all the loose ends had been taken care of. I suddenly felt bittersweet that the upcoming party was the last official event of the weekend.

Merrill Hall was a meeting hall-auditorium and one of the original structures from the YWCA camp days. The building had the Arts and Crafts signature of dark wood and liberal use of local stones. But this time all the dark wood didn’t seem moody or brooding. It was amazing what the warm color of the sunset could do. Maybe the warmth of the people helped, too.

Our group was too small for the main area, so we were using the open space at the back of the building. As I walked inside, I let out an automatic
Wow!
Commander and his group had outdone themselves. I suppose if there was a theme to their work, it was what we did over the weekend.

Commander was hovering over the long table set up under the windows. He and his group were setting out the last of the decorations on the burgundy tablecloth. Napkins folded into swan shapes were lined up at the back of the table. Palm trees fashioned out of crookneck squash with fronds made from cucumber peels were scattered around the eggplant penguins and sheep made out of cauliflower, with black olive heads and grape stem legs. Was there supposed to be a theme to the decorations? The only thing they had in common was that they didn’t belong together. But they were fun anyway. Small paper plates and plastic silverware had been artfully arranged to the side. Commander had taken a watermelon and cut the rind so it looked like a basket. The red interior had been scooped out and mixed with other fruit to make a colorful salad. There were trays of little cream puffs. Some trays were marked “Savory” and some were marked “Sweet.” They smelled buttery and freshly made, and my stomach gurgled, reminding me I’d missed another meal, this time thanks to my sting on the beach.

A large punch bowl surrounded by handled cups sat at the end of the table. I hadn’t seen punch with frozen strawberries and scoops of orange sherbet floating in ginger ale since I’d been a kid. A woman placed an index card attached to a piece of driftwood next to each food item, listing the ingredients. I guess after the whole peanut thing, they were being extra careful.

“Taste the cream puffs,” Commander said, noticing me looking them over. He sounded a little nervous, but mostly excited. This get-together was the climax of his workshops. “They’re so simple to make and such a crowd-pleaser.” He waited while I tasted one from the Savory side. It was so delicious, I sighed. The filling was sour cream with a garnish of black caviar. He gestured toward the Sweet side, and I took one of those. The flavorful puff was filled with pieces of strawberry topped with whipped cream. Commander beamed with pride when I told him I wanted his recipe.

He left to join the rest of his team. They were all wearing green Asilomar tee shirts and were arranging chairs, putting on music, adjusting the lighting and setting up areas so each of the groups could sit together.

Over the weekend, the groups had bonded, and already I’d heard e-mail lists had been circulated so they could get together again.

People were filtering in, and a number of them stopped to tell me how much they had enjoyed the workshops. The woman with the turquoise earrings waited until it was just the two of us. “My husband and I really enjoyed this weekend.” She was in Dinah’s group, and she indicated her husband, who was wearing one of the green tee shirts and working alongside Commander as they arranged chairs. She leaned close to me. “I should have guessed who did it. Of course, you’d hire an actor to play that part.” She looked around. “Where is he? I’d like to compliment him on his performance.”

I realized it was useless to tell her it wasn’t an act. I wished it all
had
been an act, and that Izabelle and Bennett would come in now and take a bow, but that wasn’t going to happen.

Jeen Wolf came in, followed by her knitters. She stopped and complimented me on how well I had dealt with catastrophes. Neither the fog nor a murder had ruined the weekend for the retreaters. The knitters, with their tote bags on their arms, marched toward some chairs. Jeen shook her head with frustration as she watched Jym working on something as he walked in. I almost choked when I saw what he was holding. He was in deep concentration as he moved his gold-toned hook through a strand of forest green yarn.

While I was trying to make out what he was working on, Adele brushed past him. Would she ever cease to surprise me? Instead of her usual wild fashions, Adele wore a long, shimmery, cream-colored shift with one of Sheila’s famous scarves as an accent. The scarf had loose stitches with a mixture of yarn textures in shades of aqua, turquoise, and royal purple that had a gold thread running through it. The only Adele touch was the lavender pouch bag with white flowers. When she caught a glimpse of Jym, Adele’s lips turned up in a triumphant smile and she nudged his arm, giving him a thumbs-up.

“How’d you get him to try crochet?” I said. “He seemed to be such a committed knitter.”

Adele appeared proud of herself. “I have my ways.” Sheila had just caught up with her and watched as Jym stumbled over something because he was looking at his crocheting instead of where he was going.

“What’s he making, anyway?”

“Well, Musketeers,” Adele said, “all I had to do was appeal to his engineer’s sensibility. I told him he could crochet a hyperbolic plane.”

“A what?” Sheila said. Adele explained it was a geometric figure that expanded exponentially from any point on its surface, always curving away from itself. Sheila and I both looked confused by the definition.

Adele shrugged. “Ruffles. It’s all about making ruffles, but it’s math at the same time.” We all looked at the long thing hanging off Jym’s hook and got it. “I’ll tell you guys all about it next time the Hookers get together.”

Adele took Sheila and the other crocheters to a group of seats next to the knitters, and I was happy to see them all talking to each other. Mason came in and waved as Dinah and the writers arrived. The actors were clustered around CeeCee and seemed to move as one unit as they found some chairs. Everybody looked at Eduardo as he came in. He was used to getting that kind of attention and barely seemed to notice. When you’re very tall, with shoulder-length black hair, a face so perfect it looks like it was created by an artist and lots of muscles in all the right places, people tend to look at you. And when you sit with a bunch of yarn people and take out a hook and some crocheting, you’re assured of more stares.

I felt my cell phone vibrate. I’d finally remembered to turn off the ringer. I knew the call was from Barry, and even though it wasn’t the best time, I wanted to talk to him.

As I flipped the phone open, I stepped outside. It was completely dark now and the sky was filled with stars. In the distance I could hear the roar of the surf.

“Hi,” I said, putting the phone to my ear. “I’m glad you called. There’s something I really want to tell you.”

“You do?” he said, his voice open and expectant.

“I can’t thank you enough for the call to Sergeant French. And the things you said about me being right a lot of the time.”

“Oh,” he said, his voice deflating. “I was hoping more for something along the lines of how much you miss me and you’re counting the hours until you come home.”

“And that, too,” I said with a smile. “I’m ready for this weekend to be over. At least if I couldn’t get through it without a dead body, the whodunit is solved.” Barry wanted to know what time my plane arrived. I mentioned the change in plans. Adele had been quite happy about it. Barry didn’t take it the same way.

“Just you and Mason?” he said with annoyance in his voice. I glanced in the window and realized everyone had gotten some of the food and it was time to begin the program.

“I’ll tell you about everything tomorrow night when I get home. Miss you,” I said before clicking off.

I stepped to the front of the room, holding the rhinestone clipboard with my notes on it.

I welcomed everyone to the gathering and smiled. “It’s been quite a weekend.” I paused as a smattering of comments like “You can say that again” and “That’s an understatement,” along with a few “Hear, hears,” filled the room. “And true to being a creative event, it defied whatever plans had been made and became something different.” I said I wanted to compliment all of them on how they adapted to the obstacles thrown in their way, and I had them give themselves a round of applause.

“Before we start, I’d like to have a moment of silence for Izabelle Landers.” I took some time to explain who she was, since she had died before most of them had gotten there. “She’ll live on in all the flowers and pouch purses her workshop group made.” Everything stopped as everyone put their heads down for a few moments. Then I continued. I hadn’t been quite sure how to talk about Bennett, but had to say something. “For any of you who don’t know, Bennett Franklyn has been arrested and will no doubt be charged with causing Izabelle’s death. Due to his legal troubles, he won’t be attending the party. CeeCee Collins has generously stepped in to help the actors with their performance.”

Mason came forward to begin the event. He demonstrated Awakening the Chi and had everyone do it a number of times before letting his arms float down to his sides.

I introduced the knitters next, and they filed up front with Jeen and Jym in the lead. On the count of three they all took out their baby-blankets-in-progress and showed them to the group. Although they were all a simple knit-and-purl combination, their yarns were all different colors. I noticed Jym had stowed his crochet project. Everyone applauded, and the knitters took a bow.

Adele was waving her group up before the knitters were back to their chairs. I noticed that Sheila was holding her own with Adele and helping the group take out their projects. Everyone had completed one of the pouch purses, each with one or more six-petaled flower embellishments. Some had made additional flowers and wore them pinned to their clothes. One renegade was making an afghan. Adele nodded, and Commander flipped off the lights. The flowers took on a ghostly glow and seemed to be floating in space. There was more applause, but the crocheters didn’t leave the front when the lights came back on and Adele nudged me over. As usual, I was finding out I wasn’t in control of my own show.

Adele waved to Jym and Jeen and their group, then she motioned for Eduardo to come up. Jym and Jeen each carried a brown paper grocery bag. Adele described Mrs. Shedd’s commitment of crocheted and knitted blankets to be donated to the local shelter.

“Our boss isn’t a crafter, so she didn’t get that a weekend wasn’t long enough to make blankets in addition to the workshops,” Adele said. My, but she loved the spotlight. She had no problem making eye contact with the crowd. “What to do, what to do?” She surveyed the crowd, trying to build up suspense. “First, I whittled it down from blankets to one blanket, but even that didn’t seem possible until I came up with the perfect solution.” Adele walked over to Jeen and Jym. “I reached out to my knitting sister and brother and offered a solution. A perfect solution, I might add.”

Adele gestured for them to empty the paper bags while she continued on with a rising voice. “I forged an alliance, and we agreed to pool the blocks each of our groups had made and fashion them into one blanket that honored our yarn solidarity.” Adele paused as a cornucopia of knitted and crocheted blocks in all different colors tumbled out and the audience cheered. She threw out her hand and pointed at Eduardo, who held a strip of blocks he’d just finished crocheting together. He gave a humble nod of his head and the audience cheered.

“Okay, Pink, I got them all worked up. I hope you can keep the momentum going,” Adele said as the groups gathered up the blocks and exited the front.

I introduced Dinah and her writers. They’d all written fifty-word paragraphs about a summer memory and each read theirs. Because they were so limited by the word count, most of the pieces seemed to have a poetic quality. Dinah beamed with pride as they read.

CeeCee brought the actors to the front next, and they assumed their places. She stood off to the side, ready to prompt lines if needed, but in the short time Bennett had prepared them well. They knew their lines, and though they might have been a little too theatrical, the short play went well. Miss Lavender Pants stole the show by deciding to do her part with a Scottish accent.