“Okay, then why would he do it?”

“I don’t know, but I bet there’s something in it for him,” Mason said.

It sounded possible, and I started to nod in agreement when my cell phone began to ring. I’d recently adjusted it so it went right to ring and turned the volume up as high as it would go. I was afraid that otherwise I’d miss calls during the weekend. My ring of choice was a royal flourish that kept playing while I searched in my bag for it. It slipped out of my hand and landed on the floor before I finally retrieved it.

I hastily flipped it open to stop the noise.

“Hello,” I said in a low voice, praying that it wasn’t Dinah with a catastrophe. It was worse. It was Barry.

“Don’t hang up,” he said right after his initial hello. Several times before when he’d called, I just said I couldn’t talk and clicked off.

“This isn’t a good time,” I said, but Barry got my attention by saying it was something about my house. I sensed people coming from the side, and when I turned, the waiter and host were approaching.

“I’m sorry, but no cell phones in the dining room,” the host said in a low voice. I gave him an apologetic smile and flipped the phone shut. But before I could put it away, it began to ring again, and I noticed that I now had the attention of most of the diners.

“I’ll have to ask you to step out into the lounge,” the host said firmly, taking my arm in a helpful but determined manner.

I answered the phone to stop the ringing and accidentally hit the speaker phone button as I did. Barry’s voice blared out, demanding to know what was going on and not to hang up. I caught sight of Nora’s expression as I rushed toward the exit. She didn’t look happy to see me.

I slumped into one of the easy chairs in the lobby. “What is it?” I said, looking over my shoulder toward the dining room. Only a few people were still looking in my direction.

“What’s going on?” Barry said. “What were all those voices?”

Mason came out a moment later and said our dinner had just arrived.

“Who’s that?” Barry’s voice squawked as I tried to shut off the speaker phone feature.

Mason was chuckling as he headed back to the table after I told him I’d be there momentarily.

Detective Barry by now had figured out who the voice belonged to, and when someone from the bar came by and asked me if I’d like a drink, he made an educated guess that I wasn’t at Asilomar.

He sounded hurt, and I rushed to tell him about being too tense to eat, that being in charge was turning out to be more than I thought, particularly with Izabelle’s death, which I now believed was murder. “Mason was just trying to help release some of my tension.”

“I just bet he was,” Barry said in a low voice. “I can help you release some tension, too. Leave the investigating to the Pacific Grove PD.”

“How’d you know?” I finally asked him.

“I know you, Molly, and if you think it’s murder, you’re getting in the middle of it. Babe, it’s not your responsibility.” His voice softened. “I bet your shoulders are all hunched up. If I was there, I’d get the knots out.” I knew that Barry was clenching his jaw and probably pacing. “I don’t mean to add to your concerns, but when I stopped by your house, the dogs barely ate and didn’t care about going outside to play. It was almost as if they’d already been fed and someone had played a lot of fetch with them.” I pleaded ignorance and got off the phone quickly. Who knew Barry and my sons would all do their job?

When I finally came back to the table, Mason looked far too amused. “I never have fun like this with my other friends.”

I noted with relief that he didn’t say his other girlfriends. Even though technically I’m a girl and a friend, I’m not what the words used together connote. I knew Mason well enough to know his choice of words was no accident.

CHAPTER 17

IT LOOKED LIKE ALL OF ASILOMAR WAS ASLEEP when we drove back through the entrance.

When we’d finally left the restaurant, after Mason talked me into having the super deluxe flaming bananas over ice cream, Nora and Bennett were having after-dinner drinks at their table. I think she must have been trying to delay going back as long as possible. No doubt this was the kind of place Nora thought they were coming to. All I could do was hope that neither Nora nor Bennett would mention where they’d seen me.

Mason thought I was overreacting, but I had been promoting the rustic accommodations and the hearty camp food, saying it was all part of the workshop atmosphere. How would it look if the retreaters knew I’d run off for flaming bananas over ice cream?

Mason walked me to my room and stopped. He reminded me that he was going to his aunt’s birthday brunch in Santa Cruz the next day.

“You’re welcome to join me,” he said in a soft voice. He didn’t argue when I said I couldn’t leave. His point wasn’t whether I went or didn’t go, but that he’d invited me. It was his way of telling me his definition of casual had changed. That had been the stumbling block when it looked like Mason and I were on the road to becoming a couple. When he’d made it clear that his idea of a casual relationship meant keeping his girlfriends separate from his family, I’d seen red. First, it sounded like he had a parade of women going through his life, and second, not being included in his family made any relationship seem kind of cheesy.

“Think about it,” he said before brushing my cheek with a soft kiss. Mason was persistent, but he didn’t push. Oh dear, just when I thought I had found a place in my life for both men, Mason had to go and confuse things.

No sooner had I closed my door than I heard a knock.

I knew it was Dinah before I opened the door. She must have been just sitting in her room, listening for footsteps.

“How was everything while I was gone?” I asked even before she stepped into the room.

“Fine. The charades were a big hit. Commander’s group made hot spiced cider and popcorn. He had one of those things you stick in the fire to make the popcorn.”

“What happened with your Ping-Pong game with Spenser? What did you find out?”

Dinah laughed. “Mostly that he is a much better Ping-Pong player than I am. Whenever I tried to ask him anything, he said he couldn’t play and talk. When we finally finished, he went back to trying to ask me questions. He was curious about the knitting couple for a moment or so, and then he lost interest. I brought up Izabelle again, and this time he admitted that maybe he did know her a little. Something about he’d seen her at the place where he has his mailbox.”

“Seen her, hah! He’s done more than that, according to Commander Blaine. He mentioned them talking. Commander isn’t sure what he does for a living,” I said.

Dinah looked disappointed. “I thought I was supposed to be getting the information.” When I told her I’d ended up talking to Commander because he was upset when he saw her with Spenser, she rolled her eyes. “Don’t you think he’s a little possessive, considering there’s really nothing between us?”

When I mentioned the whole thing about his late wife, Dinah started to soften, then seemed to reconsider. “I’m not saying the story about his wife is fake, but the whole thing about me being the first woman he’s been interested in-it’s flattering and all, but also sounds like a line.” Then she reconsidered again. “And maybe it isn’t a line. Maybe I’m a little uncomfortable with how open he is about being interested. But enough about that,” she said. “I have something to show you.” I hadn’t noticed the composition book in Dinah’s hand until she held it up.

“I was trying to get my workshop things in order and I came across this notebook from the session we had during the fogout. Remember I had everyone write about orange soda? After Izabelle presented her piece, she must have left the notebook on the table. I read it over, and I bet her ex-husband is never going to find her sister.” Dinah opened the book and handed it to me.