When I left for the bookstore the next morning, the She La Las were making space in the living room to practice their new dance routine. Peter had gotten a playpen delivered and it was in the corner of the living room, where Marlowe could watch the dance moves. Samuel’s coworker from the coffee place, Beth, was there to audition as a babysitter. My father had brought fresh bagels along with an assortment of cream cheeses and some treats for Marlowe. There were more boxes of diapers, formula and baby bottles. Samuel had gone off to his shift at the coffee place but said he would come back in the late afternoon. Peter couldn’t promise a time, but he agreed to stop over and see his daughter sometime during the day. I went off to work feeling comfortable that Marlowe would be fine.
I made up for the time I’d lost the previous day. The signs were out for Daisy’s author event, and now it was described as Daisy Cochran in conversation with Academy Award–nominated actress and crocheter CeeCee Collins. There was a description of Daisy’s book and that she was going to be talking about her new project of podcasts that delved into some old Hollywood deaths.
I’d sent out an email blast about the event and made sure the display tables were all in order. The Tarzana Hookers were having a happy hour gathering. We all agreed that spending the late afternoon with yarn and conversation had the same mellowing effect that wine did without any of the downside. I was so looking forward to it. I was overflowing with things to talk about. That was what I loved about the group. It was about so much more than what we could create with our hooks. We had become friends, confidantes. We listened to each other and most of all cared. It was a little iffy about how much Adele cared about anything other than her own woes, but I knew she did value the companionship.
Most of the Hookers were already at the table in the yarn department when I went back there for the gathering. It had been Mrs. Shedd’s idea to add the section at the back of the store. She was always looking for ways to attract more customers by making the store a destination. It was an inviting area filled with color from the cubbies filled with yarn. There were several easy chairs for anyone who wanted to stop and knit or crochet. But the main fixture was the wood table surrounded by straight-back chairs.
CeeCee Collins had taken her seat at one end of the table and was already working on something. Her hook moved through the rosy pink yarn with only an occasional look from her. I had come a long way from when I started but still couldn’t imagine being able to crochet without paying attention.
The actress seemed to be in the midst of a disagreement with Elise Belmont. Elise’s looks were at odds with her personality. She had a bird-like voice and had what I could best describe as a vague expression. She was slender and it seemed like a gust of wind could blow her over. But she had an iron core and was aggressive and maybe a little obsessive about whatever she did. For now, it was mostly real estate. “I don’t see why I’m not part of the evening with Daisy,” Elise said with an edge to her voice. “After all, I am the one who created the kits for vampire scarves.” Elise had been fixated on the Anthony character and all things vampire. She used half double crochet stitches in the kits because she thought they looked like fangs.
“I could come up with another kit. Maybe something your character would wear,” Elise said, looking at CeeCee. “What about a little black shawl for Ophelia?”
“Dear, you really need to check with Molly about that. I’m just part of the evening, not arranging it.” She had caught sight of me in her peripheral vision and held out her arm as she turned to face me. “You must have heard what Elise said. She thinks she should be part of the evening and offered to make a kit with something for my character.”
Before I could answer, Adele chimed in. “If anyone should be part of the evening representing crochet, it should be me.” She stood up and turned model-style to show off the shawl she had wound around her shoulders. It was made in free form stitches, which meant it was like jazz crochet. Totally improvised, it went from a bunch of double crochet stitches in the back loop to treble stitches with spaces in between. The yarn changed from a bright red worsted to a thick silvery textured yarn with sequins and then to a royal blue and finally a variegated yarn that went from pale to dark green.
“The sign said Daisy is going to talk about some podcasts she’s doing,” Rhoda Klein said. She had a thick New York accent and a blunt personality. She dressed for comfort, which meant all her pants had elastic in the waistband and her footwear was mostly Crocs. “I think people are going to want to hear about that more than vampire movie crochet kits. I know I’d be more interested in what Daisy has to say. I wonder who the subjects of the podcast are.”
“She’s trying to move with the times,” CeeCee said. “When she was a columnist, it was all about interesting stories about celebrities. She never ruffled any feathers. But times have changed and they’re reporting terrible things like that some handsome actor was a cannibal.” CeeCee shuddered at the thought. She was dressed in a garnet-colored velour tracksuit with her blondish hair in the same simple chin-length style she’d always worn. “Without her column, Daisy has gotten kind of pushed to the wayside and I’m sure she misses being in the middle of things and she’s trying to be contemporary. She probably knows a lot of dirt. I heard her talking and it seems like she is planning to go over some old deaths with new information,” CeeCee said.
“I wonder if she’s worried about stirring up trouble for herself. It sounds like some people might have gotten away with murder, and they might not be so happy to have it brought up again,” Sheila Altman said in her soft voice. She was the youngest in the group and suffered from bouts of anxiety. She’d found that doing the most basic of crochet stitches helped relieve it and she always carried her emergency kit, as she called it. It was really just a small hank of cotton string and a J-sized hook. When she started to feel everything tightening up, she’d take out her kit, do a line of chain stitches and then single crochets back over the chains. The rhythm and repetition of movements always calmed her. She was capable of much more complex crochet and was an accomplished knitter as well. She had developed her own style of mixing blues, greens and lavender yarns and creating pieces that had the look of an impressionist painting. She sold them at the lifestyle store located down the street where she worked. This time her nerves seemed in check and she was actually working on one of the hazy-colored throws. It was crocheted, of course. There was no knitting allowed by Adele’s decree.
“I should talk to Daisy about something I’m working on,” Adele said. “She’d be perfect to hook me up with the right people.”
Just then Dinah came in with Eduardo Linnares. To say he stood out from the rest of us was an understatement. It wasn’t just that he was a man, but was also very tall with the kind of good looks you’d expect a former cover model to have. He’d cut his flowing dark hair and wore it short, but all it did was show off more of his angular face. He seemed to have an interesting relationship with his hero-like handsomeness. It was as if he recognized it, but then forgot about it and got on with his life.
His days as a pirate or a duke on the cover of hot romance novels were over. He’d dropped the model work when it had been suggested he be in the background as the pirate’s father. He had become a personality after that doing some commercials and comedy bits playing himself on late-night talk shows. He had enough of a name that he was able to add a celebrity touch to the high-end drugstore called the Apothecary that he’d created. He was in the process of expanding his business and opening a restaurant.
His connection to crochet came from his Irish grandmother, who taught him to crochet lace when she had no granddaughters to teach. It always amazed me how he managed the delicate work with such large hands.
“What are you guys talking about?” Dinah said. “Was Molly telling you about having her granddaughter left on her doorstep? The baby was in her car seat with a bag of things on the front porch.”
“It wasn’t quite that bad,” I said. “Gabby talked to me before she rushed off. Though more like talked at me announcing she was leaving the baby. She was flying to Vancouver for a production job and couldn’t take care of Marlowe without help and the nanny had quit just as they were leaving for the airport.”
Rhoda looked at the space around me. “Where is she?” She glanced around the area for the baby.
“You should have been here yesterday. It was ‘bring your granddaughter to work day’ for Pink.”
“Are you still calling her by her last name?” Rhoda said, giving Adele a look.
Adele started defending herself, saying that calling me Pink was a compliment, likening me to the singer. They all rolled their eyes at her attempt at a save. “But that reminds me. I wanted to tell you about my new venture.” She surveyed the group at the table. “Actually, all of you.”
Adele began to circle the table, making eye contact with everyone as she did. “It has become unmanageable living with Mother Humphries. I know it upsets Eric that his mother is so bad to me, his wife, but I don’t think he knows what to do. Lucky for him, I do. We have to get our own place. I’m sure you all know of my super success with the children’s department. Everybody loves Queen Adele. We have a waiting list to join story-time. So I asked myself why can’t I use my talent to make a profit. The answer was so obvious. I’m going to put on kids’ parties.” She looked directly at me. “I just need to connect with the right people. Then Queen Adele will be trendy and everyone will want to pay a ridiculous amount of money to have me host their kids’ party.”
“You do realize it takes more than you in a costume to put on a party,” CeeCee said.
Adele shrugged it off. “That’s why I need Pink, she can fill in the rest of it.”
Rhoda gave Adele a scolding shake of her head. “You know it might help your situation if you stopped calling her Mother Humphries.”
Adele flashed her eyes and made it clear that was not going to happen.
Dinah grabbed the floor. “Molly has more than a baby visitor going on.” She turned to me. “Tell them what Peter wants you to do.”
They all knew how my son had reacted to my sleuthing and I was sure it was okay if I didn’t mention any names. They all chuckled at the irony. Except Adele.
“Here goes Sherlock Pink again,” Adele said in a scoffing tone.
“We’re really here for crochet,” CeeCee said, holding up her work and giving Adele a pointed look. “We haven’t done a charity project in a while and I think it’s time.”
“That’s what I was going to say after I talked about the party business,” Adele said, interrupting. The rest of the group got the here we go again look. CeeCee was the leader of the group, but Adele somehow thought she was.
CeeCee ignored the comment and said she’d bring in some ideas.
“After you run them past me,” Adele said, trying to stake out her position. There was a collective rolling of eyes.