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Authors: Betty Hechtman

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BOOK: Gone with the Wool
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“I'm sure this one will be fine,” I said.

“At least I know where to find you if there's a problem,” she joked.

I went on to the dining hall, and as I'd expected, Lucinda had gotten three of the round tables for our group. She was circulating with iced tea and coffee and making sure everyone was happy with the meal. She pointed out an empty seat, and I went to the table. Since running the workshops was work for Crystal and Wanda, they had gone home for the day. It always made me laugh to see how our tables were littered with yarn. I was relieved that everyone seemed happy. Two of the early birds clustered around me to share their news. Bree had found somebody who seemed a little lost and was having a hard time adjusting to the lack of electronics. She'd been through both experiences but had eventually realized that there was something to be said about not spending all your time with your face in a phone.

Olivia was holding a small long loom. “This would be perfect to make squares on.” Olivia's passion had become getting knitters and crocheters to make eight-inch squares that she sewed into blankets and then passed on to assorted charities. Now whenever she came, she was always looking to have the group make squares during one of the impromptu gatherings. “It will be so much faster,” she added.

Scott had moved to another table and was talking to a
family. I noticed the father was knitting as they talked. Scott had found a kindred spirit.

I joined the retreaters for the meal, once again realizing I'd been too busy to eat. When dinner ended, I gathered up the group and told them to head over to the Lodge, where everyone was meeting ahead of that night's monarch event, the Beckoning of the Butterflies.

When we got there, I spotted the Delacorte sisters and went over to greet them. Cora had on an overcoat and scarf. Her puff of brown hair seemed recently styled, and she was holding her purse on her arm just the way Queen Elizabeth did. She threw a disdainful glance at her older sister. Madeleine had always been the more timid of the two and up until recently had been so quiet that I'd actually wondered if she was able to talk. But all that had changed—she claimed because of me. She'd joined my last retreat, and the ensuing adventure had caused her to come out of her shell. She seemed to be making up for lost time.

“Check out these jeans,” she said proudly, kicking out her leg. I heard Cora groan with irritation. She couldn't understand why it was such a big deal that her seventy-something sister had just started wearing the denim pants.

Madeleine might have gone a little overboard—I noticed her pants were distressed with a fashionable tear at the knee—but she seemed so happy with them that all I could do was smile and tell her they looked great.

“With Rosalie gone,” Madeleine said, “we're back in charge of the Butterfly Queen committee. That woman took it upon herself to be the head of the committee.” She glanced at Chloe, who was sitting across the room. “She just showed up and said she was back on the Princess Court. I suppose
there's nothing we can do—Rosalie was totally wrong about putting her out because she didn't like the way she was dressed—but it still seems like bad form, all things considered. Everyone says she's the one who stabbed Rosalie.”

“I have it on good authority that she didn't do it,” I said. Cora was listening and joined the conversation.

“Who's the good authority?” the more formal sister asked.

“She told me she didn't do it.”

Cora's mascaraed eyelashes fluttered. “As if she would tell you the truth. But I know you're innocent until proven guilty, so we'll let her stay in the court.” Cora glanced around at the growing crowd. “I hope we can get through this evening without any problems.” She pulled out some leather gloves and held them in her hand.

I heard someone calling my name and saw that Sammy had just come in, along with his mother. They made their way over to me. Sammy seemed subdued and his mother annoyed. “I don't know where your father went,” she was saying. “After the whale watching I went to take a nap, and when I got up, he and the car were both gone.” She looked around at the crowd.

“Sammy said there's some special event tonight. I was hoping we could sit down someplace and talk about your future,” his mother continued.

Just then, Crystal's son, Kory, came through the crowd and saw Sammy. He went up to him and pulled on his ear, while Sammy's mother watched. “Aren't you going to make a quarter app—” Before he could say the rest of “appear,” I took Kory's arm and led him aside. I told him the truth, that Sammy's mother didn't know about his magic act. “Not everybody's mother is as cool as yours,” I said.

“Poor guy,” Kory said.

Sammy's mother glanced around impatiently. “What are we waiting for?” she said.

“It's who,” Kevin St. John said, overhearing her. I was surprised to see that he'd added a fleece jacket over his suit. “And here he is, the Lord of the Butterflies.” Coach Gary had just walked in, with Liz at his side. She seemed to have recovered from our afternoon encounter. Gary wore the large wings over his leather jacket. Kevin St. John seemed unusually animated and leaned in to speak to Sammy's mother. “You'll see it was worth the wait. It's going to be truly magical.” Sammy winced at the word.

Coach Gary walked across the Lodge and opened the door that led out onto the deck. He waved for the princesses to come first, and then for the rest of us to follow.

The crowd spilled out onto the deck and then went down the stairs and moved en masse to the boardwalk that led through the dunes. All our feet clattered on the walkway as we followed along, and I felt bad for any deer that were wandering in the dunes. We reached the edge of the Vista Del Mar grounds and the street. The usually empty street was lined with cars, and more people joined the crowd as we crossed the street. There was no traffic, and we all crossed in a constant stream. It was easy to see the white sand, even in the dark. Walking became a little more difficult when we reached the sand, but we continued on to almost the water's edge, then everyone spread out.

“We call this the Beckoning of the Butterflies,” Coach Gary said. “We thank them for coming here and admire the magic that draws them here, following in the footsteps of their ancestors even though these particular butterflies have never been here before.”

The breeze whipped through the crowd, and the waves made a rhythmic sound as Coach Gary and the princesses gathered together. There was a large bin near the water. The princesses each took a cylinder from the container. I saw someone with the kind of lighter used for fireplaces going from princess to princess. The flame was applied to the bottom of the cylinder, and then the princess held up the glowing cylinder and let it go. The sky lanterns floated up and out over the water, carrying their beckoning lights.

For the moment, I forgot all about my troubles and my worries regarding Chloe. It was absolutely beautiful as more and more of the cylinders took off into the night sky. I felt someone link arms with me. I looked over and could just barely make out Dane's angular face.

“Chloe banished me from all of this princess stuff, but I didn't want to miss this. It's really something, isn't it?” More of the lights sailed out over the water. “Even if it's just ceremonial. I heard the butterflies had already started arriving days ago,” Dane teased.

I gave him a playful poke in the arm. “Aren't you Mr. Bust the Perfect Moment.”

“Give me a chance and I'll create a perfect moment.” I couldn't see his eyes, but I bet they were dancing. The last of the lanterns went up, and everyone applauded. “That's my cue. I've got to go.” I'd felt the brush of his equipment belt and realized he was in uniform, which meant he was on duty. He touched my arm and then walked off in the sand.

In the darkness it was impossible to see who was who, and I followed the crowd as everyone headed back to the street. Some people began to splinter off and head to their cars, and others continued through the Vista Del Mar gate onto the boardwalk, through the dunes.

Sammy must have had some kind of radar, because even in the dark, with all those people, he found me as I was walking on the boardwalk. “Case, the good news is that my father finally showed up. The bad news is that they are insisting we spend some time with them—both of us.”

Back to reality and the pile of problems facing me. “When?” I asked.

“They were talking about now,” he said. “I'm really sorry, but the sooner we do it, the sooner they'll leave.”

I saw his point and thought over what I still had to do. “I suppose I could do it for a half an hour. Just let me see my retreaters first.”

Sammy gave me a bear hug. “Case, you're the best. I'll tell them we'll meet them in the café.” He moved on ahead to find them and give them the good news.

The boardwalk ended, and the crowd spread out even more. As I went up the stairs to the deck outside the Lodge, I caught up with the two Danish women. They were all smiles and told me in hesitant English how much they were enjoying the retreat. I looked around for Liz Buckley, knowing it would reassure the travel agent, but I didn't see her.

We walked into the cavernous building together. I was glad to see Lucinda, Bree, Scott and Olivia gathered by the window looking out over the deck, and I brought the Danish women over.

Bree's fluff of blond curls bounced as she talked. “Next year, I'm bringing my boys. This whole thing about the butterflies is magical. Imagine that somehow they know just where to come, when they've never been here before, but their great-grandparents have. Or maybe it's great-great-grandparents.”

Lucinda smiled at Bree's excitement. “It certainly brings a lot of attention to Cadbury.”

Scott usually had the buttoned-down look of a businessman, but for once his face was beaming. Olivia was the only one who wasn't gushing over what we'd just witnessed and seemed almost glum.

“Sorry, but the whole event reminded me of my ex. I heard that he and the new wife took off in a hot air balloon after they said their vows,” she said. She'd come so far in moving on with her life that I hated to see her take a step back. Thinking about her ex's marriage, particularly the fact that her children had gone to the wedding, stirred up all kinds of upset for her. I hoped changing the subject would make her forget about it. “Remember, you were going to try using a loom to make squares,” I said. The idea of collecting knitted and crocheted squares that she could sew together into blankets and donate had become almost an obsession with Olivia, and she immediately brightened.

“What a great idea.” She looked at the group. “Why not have a session right now?” She went over to the retreaters and suggested they move to the living room–like lobby of the building their guest rooms were in. She made sure to let the Danish women know they were included.

“Are you coming?” Lucinda asked, hanging back as the others moved toward the door.

“I wish.” I told her about having to meet Sammy's parents. “I hope they say whatever they have to and then leave. I have too many things going on to be able to keep up with the masquerade of being his girlfriend.” Lucinda gave me a sympathetic hug and then went on to catch up with the others.

The Beckoning of the Butterflies seemed to have left a lot of people anxious for a treat. As I crossed the large space, I saw that the line for the Cora and Madeleine Delacorte Café was spilling out the door into the main area of the Lodge.
As I got closer, I saw that Sammy's parents were already in line, in a position near the door. Coach Gary squeezed past the line as he exited the café with a cup of something hot. He'd removed the monarch wings and had his leather jacket unzipped. He was all smiles and seemed almost to glow from the success of his Lord of the Butterfly duties. I saw several people speak to him and assumed by the humble bow of his head and big smile that he was collecting compliments.

As he passed Sammy's parents, Sammy's dad stopped him. No smile and bowed head this time—Coach Gary's expression darkened instead. I suppose Dr. Bernard Glickner was probably telling him something about the sky lanterns being dangerous. Sammy's father must have realized he'd said the wrong thing, because the next thing he did was pat Coach Gary on the shoulder. The only way I could describe the move was that it looked like they were in solidarity about something.

I tried to thread my way through the line to join them but kept getting dirty looks, like I was trying to cut in front. I'd almost reached them when a tall woman who looked like the stereotype of an old maid librarian blocked my path and gave me a scathing look.

“Missy, there's a line,” she said, holding her arms out. I was going to point out Sammy's parents but decided it wasn't worth the battle. I'd just wait until they saw me. Maybe I had another motive as well—I was now close enough to hear what they were saying. I hoped they would spill whatever they planned to “discuss” with me and Sammy. Better to be prepared.

Satisfied that I wasn't going to try to pass her, the librarian turned away from me, and I was able to get in even better hearing range of Sammy's parents.

“I know where you went,” Estelle said. “Bernard, you have a problem.”

“I do not,” he countered. “Just because I'm bored with a butterfly festival and went looking for something else to do doesn't mean I have a problem.” They moved into the doorway of the café. “This detour was your idea anyway.”

“You should have used that time to talk to your son.” Estelle seemed to move her head a lot as she spoke. “There's something he's not telling us. She's working a couple of jobs. His mind seems to be on something other than his medical career. That house is tiny. Did you see Sammy's socks on the floor? He never does that.”

“Aren't you Mrs. Detective,” he said. “But I agree, he's hiding something. He's never had any sense where Casey was concerned.”

BOOK: Gone with the Wool
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