If Hooks Could Kill - By Betty Hechtman Page 0,103
I was going to have to do something to make my life less dense.
What had started out like any other day had turned into a day where I got arrested for being in what I thought was Barry’s place, followed by him coming clean about the situation and exiting my house and life. I’d found out that Kelly had been keeping valuable coins hidden in her crochet pieces and it probably had to do with why she’d gotten killed. To cap off the day, I’d had the encounter with Jaimee and Mason. I didn’t even care about the leaded glass lamp information I’d gotten. Besides, now that it was gone there was no way to check if Kelly’s lamp was an authentic Tiffany.
Well, I’d done it. I’d gone from too many men in my life, to none. And thanks to the whole episode with North Adams’s gun and then the disappearing stuff in the storage locker, I’d lost any credibility with solving Kelly’s murder.
After my ice cream dinner, I walked into what had been Barry’s room. The sooner I got it back to my crochet room, the better. I needed to get my life back on track. I grabbed the keys to my storage locker and headed out to bring home my supplies.
It was the end of twilight when I pulled into the storage place. I knew I wouldn’t be able to get everything in the greenmobile, but if I got all my yarn back, I’d feel better.
I parked the greenmobile as close to the rows of little garages as possible, sorry now that I hadn’t chosen the deluxe ones that allowed you to pull your car right in front of them. I had dressed for moving stuff and left the tote bag I was using as a carryall at home. I had essentials in a tiny pouch I’d worn across my chest. Instead of making things easier, it felt odd, like something was missing and I kept thinking I’d left my purse somewhere. I was glad I’d brought a flashlight as the daylight was almost completely gone.
I thought I had memorized exactly where my locker was, but quickly realized I was in the wrong row. I had gone into the row where Kelly’s locker had been. I recognized the spot of spilled white paint on the asphalt I’d noticed in front of her locker when I’d been there before.
I trained my flashlight on the blue pull-up door and saw there was no lock on it. I pulled it open just for the heck of it. Inside it was dark and empty. What was I expecting?
I continued down the row illuminating my way with the flashlight. The beam of light hit the blue doors along either side of the walkway. The line of repetitive doors was making me a little dizzy until something made me stop.
Something on one of the locks glowed when the beam of light passed over it. When I got closer, I recognized there was a strip of reflective tape on the lock—just as I’d seen on Kelly’s lock. Was it really her lock and had someone just moved everything to a new unit?
If it was the same lock, the key I had should still open it. I felt for my carryall and remembered I just had the pouch—so the key was back home. Maybe it was just as well. What could I do about it anyway?
Besides, it was completely dark now and definitely spooky. I wanted to get my stuff and get out of there. I found my own locker and loaded up what I could in the greenmobile and drove home.
By now the events of the day had caught up with me. I carried in the bags and bins of yarn and odds and ends of stuff and deposited them in the crochet room. I’d put everything away later. Now all I wanted was sleep.
The next morning I felt much better, but as I walked through the house followed by a parade of animals, I half expected to see Barry sitting at the kitchen table. I fed everybody and let them all out for some time in the yard before getting ready for work.
I skipped coffee at home and went right to the bookstore. On the way in I stopped in the café. Bob saw me and started making my red eye. I recognized several crew members from the production, carrying trays of drinks as they headed toward the door.