“I’m sorry I didn’t think of this before,” Dinah said. I was in her office in the English Department of Beasley Community College waiting for her star student. Dinah explained to me that after I had left her the night before, she’d decided to watch the late news. The TV was still paused on the very last credits of the western, which turned out to be an in memoriam for someone named Billy Erickson. She had tried to turn it off and had hit the wrong button on the remote, and the credits started going backward. While she was trying to stop it, she recognized the name of her star student and recalled that she had written her extra-credit paper on working as a production assistant on a movie.
“I didn’t pay attention at the time since I didn’t recognize the name of the film. What a surprise when I realized she worked on the movie Peter’s money guy was one of the executive producers for,” Dinah said.
“It’s perfect timing. She was coming in to meet me anyway,” my friend added. “She wants to get into a special class and needs my recommendation.” She looked at the door to make sure it was still closed. “I’ll introduce you and then I’ll pretend to get a phone call I have to take and leave the room.”
I got it. I’d have a few minutes to see what her student knew about Miles Langford.
Just then the door opened and a young woman walked in. Dinah greeted her and introduced her to me. “This is Roberta Tockle.” When I heard her last name I understood how Dinah had recognized it. How many Tockles were there in the world? Dinah gave it a moment before looking down at the phone in her hand, as if it was vibrating. “I have to take this,” she said in an apologetic voice and gave me a nod.
It was easy to start the conversation. All I had to do was tell her the nice things Dinah had said about her. “She said you work, too,” I said, pretending to be vague about the details. “Something on a production?”
“I’m a production assistant, or was. I was hoping to get another gig, but I lost the guy who was my ‘in.’ The pay isn’t great and the hours are crushing, but still there are tons of people who want the jobs. I’m hoping to get something over the summer. In the meantime, I thought I’d go to school.”
I went on about how interesting it must be and asked what she’d worked on. She mentioned Back Home on the Range and seemed apologetic that it was a low-budget western. All I said was that it must have been interesting and she took off from there.
“Who would have guessed that the perfect location for a western would be so close. Base camp was on a flat area at the top of a hill at the north end of the Valley in Chatsworth.” She stopped herself. “It was really more of a mountain. Hill implies something soft and rolling. This was covered with slabs of jagged rocks and steep cliffs. A lot of people hike around there, and I heard there have been a lot of rescues where a helicopter has to come because they got stuck somewhere. We had to be on the lookout for rattlesnakes, tarantulas, mountain lions, coyotes, and falls.” Her expression dimmed. “Even with all the warnings, one of the PAs fell off of a cliff. Billy Erickson, rest in peace.” With no segue she started on about food. “They really kept us fed well, though. There was a whole setup for cooking and eating, even though there was a nicer tent and faster service for the key people.” She started going over the menus and I realized Dinah could only be gone for so long.
It was a little awkward, but I interrupted her as she was describing how even the production assistants had gotten grilled steak on the last day of shooting.
“I think I know someone who worked on that project,” I said. “Miles Langford.” She responded with a blank look at first, and after a moment nodded with recognition. “He was one of the executive producers. I heard he came on the set, but I’m not sure which one he was.” She looked at the door and then at her watch. “I hope she comes back soon. I have to get to work. But it’s nothing as exciting as being a production assistant. I’m an assistant manager at a fast casual place.” She gave the name of a local eatery.
Dinah must have been listening and a moment later came back in the room. I had to get to work myself and only stayed for a few minutes after Roberta got her letter and left. “Did she say anything helpful?” Dinah asked.
“Just more of a hint that there’s nothing,” I said with a shrug.
“How will you know when you’re done checking him out?” my friend asked.
I had been debating about that. I knew that Peter was anxious to settle things with Miles and take the money for the production, but I wanted it to look as if I had done a complete job. “I think it would look better if I found something negative about Miles. Not enough to be a problem, but something that made it seem I had really checked him out.” I mentioned the party Adele was putting on for the Langfords. “I’m sure I’ll turn up something. Lily has already changed everything she initially agreed to, except what she wants to pay.”
• • •
Adele grabbed me as soon as I walked into the bookstore. “You have to help me,” she said in a panicky voice. She was dressed in a new outfit for story-time. This time as Snow White, if Snow White knew how to crochet. The high collar that was part of the costume had been created out of thread and starched to stiffness. The bodice was crocheted as well. Adele was tall with an ample build that made her seem imposing, and that made Snow White look a little menacing to me. But apparently not to the kids, who somehow were drawn to her anyway.
“What is it now?” I said, glad that at least she had not called me Pink.
“I heard from another one of the people in your mommy group who wants a proposal about a party. She heard about the one I’m doing for the Langfords and she wants me to do one for her, but it has to be grander than what we’re doing for them and different. I agreed to going there with a proposal.” She looked at me. “You have to come up with something and go with me.”
“I thought this was your business,” I said. I had a reason to want to help with the Langfords but had thought that would be it.
“It is,” she said defiantly, “but I thought you’d want to help with the people from that mommy group.”
I started to protest, but realized she was right. If she messed things up with any of them, it would reflect on me, and maybe get Marlowe kicked out of the group. If Gabby came back to that, I would never hear the end of it. But I choked when Adele told me who it was and how soon she expected us to pitch her on an idea. “Taylor Palmer wants it this afternoon?” I said.
She saw the kids beginning to arrive for story-time and told me to get back to her with a plan. I followed her, trying to get any details of what Taylor had said and all I got was that it was for her older son, Andrew Junior. There was a clump of people waiting by the entrance to the children’s department. The parents were anxious to drop off their kids, who were bored with waiting and were rolling on the floor and dancing around.
Adele grabbed her clipboard and started checking kids in with their bows and curtseys. A harried mother was trying to get her son away from pulling books off of one of the bookcases. I remembered having seen her before and felt like I should step in. All the time with Marlowe had reawakened what it was like to deal with children.
Seeing the wild kid stirred memories of how I had managed my boys when they were his age. “I wonder if you could help me,” I said to him. He stopped what he was doing and looked at me. I told him how people would be coming in the store looking for books and if the books were all mixed up, they wouldn’t be able to find anything. He looked at the pile of books. “Why don’t you hand them to me one at a time and we’ll put them where they belong.” His mother’s face relaxed and she gladly let me take over. As Adele continued her duty, the little boy and I cleaned up the mess he had made and he finally skipped in to join the others.
“Thank you,” the mother said when it was just the two of us. “He’s having a hard time dealing with his father’s death. He can’t understand that his dad went out for his usual bike ride and never came back.” She seemed close to tears. “They just left him there, too.” She swallowed back her feelings and pulled herself together. “If we didn’t have this story-time I don’t know what I would do. Queen Adele has a way with the kids. She makes the stories come alive.” She peeked into the area closed off by bookcases. I looked over her shoulder and she was right. Adele had the kids mesmerized and I had an idea for the party we had to plan.
• • •
Mrs. Shedd and Mr. Royal had taken a day off from their midday outings and had lunch brought in, and there was no problem when Adele and I took our lunch break at the same time.
Adele insisted on driving, and like everything else she did, it was over the top. She was busy looking out the window at the rugged terrain along Malibu Canyon Road. The winding roadway hugged the mountain on one side, with a steep drop on the other. Malibu Creek ran through greenery at the bottom of the cliff and Adele kept taking her eyes off the road, attempting to see the water. Beyond the creek, there were rock-covered mountainsides with houses perched on the top.
It made me think of my conversation with Roberta Tockle. I bet there were lots of rattlesnakes, tarantulas and more in the area we were passing. I let out a sigh of relief when the expanse of blue water showed up and I knew we had made it through the canyon.
I had discussed the idea I came up with for the party on the ride, when I was not holding my breath at Adele’s driving. She liked the idea, but wanted me to pitch it to Taylor. “You can go on about how great I am and it will sound much better than if I say it.” Adele was still wearing the Snow White costume, insisting that it was a plus.
It was a lot quieter without the mommy group and I had a chance to really look at the house as Adele parked in the motor court. The grounds around it included a perfectly manicured lawn with some bushes for interest. Now that I had a chance to look at it again, I noted how grand the massive exterior appeared with the creamy-colored walls and terra-cotta tiled roof. I knew from my past visit that the large arched window with mullioned panes looked in on the living room. The entranceway was lined with huge terra-cotta pots of flowers.
The door was opened by a woman in a white uniform who I recognized as Elena, the person who had entertained the kids while the parents hung out. She recognized me and smiled, but when she saw Adele in the Snow White costume, a look of “what is this about?” crossed her face, but only for a split second and then she invited us in.
“Mrs. Palmer is occupied at the moment. She asked me to take you to the guesthouse.” She gestured for us to follow her and we went outside through a side door. The backyard had a pool with a cabana, a tennis court and a grassy area. Two umbrella tables sat near an outdoor kitchen. Beyond all that there was a step up and the guesthouse with a whole other yard that seemed like a kid’s dream. Along with the swings and slide, there was a playhouse and a picnic table. Some old trees added some shade and I could see that they were outfitted with tiny lights.
Elena led the way inside the guesthouse, which was bigger than a lot of people’s primary houses. Elena said the guesthouse would be home base for the party and offered to let me look around. There was a full kitchen with an eating area that flowed into a comfortable space with couches and chairs. I wandered on to a hall that led to the back. I started opening doors. The first one led to a large bedroom with a connecting bath. As I moved on to the next door the handle didn’t turn. “There’s nothing to see in there,” the housekeeper said. “Just some boxes of stuff that belonged to the former Mrs. Palmer.” She crossed herself. “May she rest in peace.”
“Did you know her?” I asked and Elena nodded.
“I worked for her. And now I work for Taylor Palmer. You could say I came with the house,” she said with a touch of humor. She pointed out the window at another structure I hadn’t noticed. The garage had three separate garage doors and a second story. “It’s the only way I’d get to live in a place like this. Everybody who lives here wants to stay forever.”
Elena was close to me in age and she seemed to sense that in the scheme of things I was more a working person rather than a friend of Taylor Palmer’s. I have no idea what she thought of Adele, other than she seemed to be keeping her eye on my companion.
“It must have been different working for Margo Palmer,” I said. Elena raised her eyes skyward.
“The money she spent on shoes—I wish I had it for a retirement fund. There were brand-new ones she never wore.” She glanced toward the main house. “She wears them now.” The way she shook her head showed that she didn’t approve. “All that money and she barely wore them anymore. Only when there was someone other than me to see them. Then she wore those stilettos no matter how uncomfortable.”
“It’s too bad what happened to her,” I said.
Elena’s expression froze. “I’m sorry now that I wasn’t here, but it was my day off. When I left, she was stretched out on a chaise lounge watching a game show and painting her toenails. She didn’t like anyone touching her feet. I left her a salad for lunch and a plate of cold cuts for dinner and then I left. I went into Santa Monica to meet my daughter.” She said it as if she’d said it many times before, probably to the police.
Adele was getting fidgety and grumbling that she, the head of the party business, was being kept waiting.
Elena and I traded glances and probably had the same thought. Adele needed to know her place. We were just the little people.
Taylor swept in and glanced over the group of us. After what the housekeeper had said about Taylor wearing Margo’s shoes, I looked at her feet. She was wearing sling-back beige heels and I could just see a bit of the trademark red soles of Christian Louboutin. She dismissed Elena, looked back and forth at Adele and me. “I don’t have a lot of time, so tell me what you’ve got.”
I tried to give Adele the floor, but she pointed at me. “She’s better at explaining it than I am.” I chuckled to myself. Adele had stopped calling me Pink, but still had a hard time calling me Molly, so now I was just “she.”
“You haven’t been to one of our story-times or you would understand that Adele doesn’t just read stories to the kids. She entertains, takes them on an adventure. That is what she can do for a deluxe party. I’m sure you know that children now like interactive entertainment. No more watching something—they want to be part of the action. That’s exactly what Adele will do. She will take them on an adventure that has an obstacle course and is a treasure hunt. There will be a celebration at the end of the journey with a confetti cannon, prizes, balloons and a themed lunch.”
Taylor interrupted. “How is this different from the party you’re putting on for the Langfords?” She looked from Adele to me. And Adele gave me the floor. “Adele is putting on a nostalgic party with a contemporary touch. Simple games, like pin the tail on the donkey, but with no notes of animal cruelty, vegan hot dogs, cupcakes for every diet and the same for the ice cream. No themed setup or the high adventure your party will have.”
“That sounds good, but way too vague. I need something more detailed. What’s the theme and how is it carried throughout the party? And the cost, and we’ll go from there.” She glanced around the guesthouse. “You can use this and the yard. I’ll need something for the adults in the house.” She took another look at Adele. “Never mind on that. I’ll use my usual caterer.” With that, she turned to leave. “Elena will show you out.”
• • •
Adele spent the whole ride back trying to convince me that I had to do the proposal. “I’m the talent, not the one who deals with the nitty-gritty stuff,” she said just as we got to the part of Malibu Canyon Road where it flattened out and changed names.
She was still going on about it and still dressed as Snow White when we joined the rest of the Hookers in the yarn department.
“But it’s your business,” I countered, taking a sip of yet another red-eye. I was beginning to think I was immune to caffeine, or maybe it was just that with everything like Marlowe waking up in the middle of the night, I wasn’t getting enough sleep.
“The idea was yours, so you know the details more than I do,” Adele said. I gritted my teeth with frustration. And tried to think of something to say.
“Maybe we can help,” Dinah said. “What’s the problem?” Adele insisted on speaking first and told them about her party business to make money so she and Eric could live independently of Mother Humphries. Of course, Adele didn’t notice when everyone at the table let out a groan at what she called Eric’s mother.
“The business is really taking off. I have one definite commitment and this one in the works.” Adele stopped for a breath and I took the opportunity to tell the rest of the story, but Adele interrupted and complained how Taylor Palmer had left us waiting with the housekeeper. “Instead of taking care of business, Molly was talking to the housekeeper about expensive shoes.”
Rhoda’s head shot up from her crochet work. “What kind of shoes?”
I recounted the whole story of the housekeeper working for the former Mrs. Palmer and her employer’s love of expensive shoes. “Heels,” I said, looking at Rhoda, who rocked her head with disapproval. “But she said something you would probably agree with,” I said to the heel-hating Hooker. “She said that Margo only wore the heels when there was someone to see them.”
“That makes a lot more sense,” Dinah said. My friend looked down at her blanket in progress. She was at the end of a row with black yarn and looked at the array of small balls of leftover yarn she was using for it. “What color should I do next?” They voted on a golden yellow and she joined it on the last stitch of the black and began the next row. She was working her way across, when her head shot up and she gestured for me to go away from the table with her.
“No fair, secrets,” Adele said, watching us go. The rest of them joined in and we sat back down.
“Okay,” Dinah said, feeling like a naughty schoolgirl. “I was going to tell Molly a thought I had. I didn’t think the rest of you cared, so I was just going to tell her.” She looked around the table. “You all know about the Sherlock Holmes game Molly and I play—well, see what you deduce from this. Margo Palmer fell down the stairs, it was thought, because the heel of her shoe caught on the carpet. She died because she was home alone and there was no one to call for help. But Molly just heard that she didn’t wear heels unless there was someone to see them.”
“I get it,” Rhoda said excitedly. “If she was wearing heels then someone was there.”
“Unless she was going out,” CeeCee said.
“If she was going out, she wouldn’t have put the shoes on until she was ready to walk out the door. Or at least, I wouldn’t have,” Rhoda said.
“What about the housekeeper?” Sheila asked.
“She left on her day off and said when she left Margo Palmer was barefoot and spending the day alone,” I said.
Eduardo seemed perplexed by the whole thing, and then his face lit up. “If I were playing your Sherlock Holmes game, I would deduce that something doesn’t add up.”