If Hooks Could Kill - By Betty Hechtman Page 0,102

the wedding would demonstrate that.

“Meeting Jaimee wasn’t enough,” he said with a laugh. I shook my head and followed along through the warren of rooms. Just as we caught up with Jaimee, I noticed a leaded glass lamp and detoured to look at it. Mason stopped with me and it took Jaimee about two seconds to get impatient with the delay.

“C’mon,” she said in an annoyed voice. She seemed even more upset when the salesman came toward me. “Did I mention that I will probably be one of the housewives on The Housewives of Mulholland Drive?” she said trying to monopolize the salesperson’s attention.

“It reminds me of the lamp I saw in Kelly’s workroom and later was in the storage locker,” I said as way of explanation to Mason. I turned to the store clerk. “What’s the value of something like this?”

“This particular one is a Tiffany-style lamp. If you’re talking about a real one. . . .” He whistled to indicate the price was way up there. Jaimee was doing eye rolls in the background. He asked me what the one I’d seen looked like.

“I don’t remember exactly. It was blue and green and there might have been some flowers.”

“It’s probably a copy.” He mentioned the real ones had a signature on the bottom. “An original similar to what you’re describing was connected with a murder a while back. The police contacted us to ask if we’d seen it.” He gestured toward the array of unusual items. “We get our pieces all over.”

“I actually want to buy something,” Jaimee said, pointing toward some fountains in a courtyard up ahead.

“You were asking about the lamp we saw?” Mason said. I had to break the news to him about my fiasco with Detective Heather. He didn’t know about the coins I’d found or the watch. He seemed disappointed he was out of the loop. “You should have called me,” he said. “Maybe I could have helped.” Our moment was interrupted by Jaimee calling from the courtyard, commanding his presence.

I was amazed at Mason’s self-control. No matter how much he wanted to kill her, he never let it show. I didn’t do as well.

CHAPTER 32

With a wedding gift finally chosen, we walked out onto the street. Actually, they’d chosen two. The fountain was going to be delivered and installed. The metal cherubs with the banner reading “Love Forever,” Mason loaded into the trunk. Jaimee rushed and opened the passenger door as she prepared to get in.

Mason shut the trunk and said, “We’ll drop Jaimee and the gift off at her house. Then we can—”

“That won’t work,” Jaimee said interrupting. “I want to take the cherubs to Thursday now.” She trained her gaze on Mason. “You should come with.” She swiveled her head in my direction. “And you shouldn’t. Mason has always kept his women away from anything with our girls.”

Mason stepped close to me and put his arm around my shoulder. “I’ll make it up to you,” he whispered in my ear. Jaimee was still half in and half out of the front seat and saw what Mason did. She groaned and rolled her eyes. “Oh my God, Mason, you’re acting like some lovesick puppy.”

I had to give Mason credit. He didn’t react at all to what she’d said. Thankfully the ride back to my house was quick and I jumped out as soon as the car came to a stop at the curb. Mason cut the motor and rushed out of the other side before catching up with me.

“I’m sorry.” He shook his head. “I’m so tired of saying that. I promise you when the wedding is over, Jaimee will be out of the picture. He hugged me and went to kiss me, but I backed away.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “You have your family thing to take care of.” Yes, there was an edge to my voice. I didn’t like the reference to “Mason’s women” that Jaimee had made. It made me feel like I was just another female in the shadows. Right then I made the decision that it was best to continue to view Mason as just a friend, rather than let him move up into the spot of boyfriend.

Back at home I had the quiet house I’d been wishing for. What’s that thing about being careful what you wish for . . . ? I checked the freezer and saw there was an unopened pint of Bordeaux strawberry ice cream. It had been a killer day.