“You didn’t think I was talking about me, did you?” She quickly wiped her eyes. “That’s just what happened to some little girl who lives down the street from me.” She looked at Marni. “Forget I even brought it up.” She waved at Marni to proceed. After an awkward moment, Marni mentioned the real focus of her story-Izabelle Landers.
Spenser took the floor to explain. “I’m an accountant by profession, but my passion is crochet and I came up with an idea for a fusion craft.” He explained he’d made notes and come up with patterns for a book. He’d met Izabelle at Commander Blaine’s office and mailing center. Spenser knew she’d come out with a crochet book and thought she might have some advice on how to get a book on his new craft published. He had given her a rough idea of his book to look over, but she’d returned it and said there was nothing she could suggest, and discouraged him from proceeding. “When I heard she had a book coming out about a fusion craft, I got it. She’d ripped me off. I came here to confront her, but she kept avoiding me.” He glanced at the floor. “I’m not proud of it, but I snuck in Izabelle’s room to borrow a copy of her manuscript. I wanted to show it to Marni so she could compare it with what I’d written.” He said he was going to get an attorney who handled plagiarism issues as soon as he got back to Tarzana. I looked at the jacket in the front of the room and realized why it looked familiar. It resembled the one in Izabelle’s closet. No wonder Marni had photographed it. It was one more piece of proof that Izabelle had stolen Spenser’s idea. I noticed that Spenser didn’t mention his second trip to Izabelle’s room. I just let it be.
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.
CHAPTER 26
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.