If Hooks Could Kill - By Betty Hechtman Page 0,104
I came in holding my red eye. I was on time and there for the duration of my shift. Not only would I be working the information desk, but I’d finish going through the file of events we were planning for the fall.
“Excuse me, but I need some help,” a male voice said as I read over a sheet for a Girl Scouts’ reading badge event.
“Mason,” I said in surprise. He was dressed for work in a wheat-colored suit and a creamy off-white cotton shirt that probably had a thread count of a thousand. “I was worried. I tried to call you, but there was just voice mail everywhere.”
I avoided his eye. The truth was I had deliberately not answered any of my phones. What was there to say?
“I finally called the bookstore this morning. Your boss said you should be here, but these days she wasn’t sure anymore.” He touched my arm fondly. “I thought we could at least get a cup of coffee.”
I held up my red eye. Undaunted, he continued. “I am so sorry about everything. I wanted to call you last night, but it just went on and on,” he said.
“I get it. Family comes first. You’ll always do what’s best for them. And even though you’re divorced, Jaimee is still part of your family. I just can’t handle being on the outside.” Mason said he was going to get a coffee and would be back momentarily. I should have known he wouldn’t just give up. He was a criminal lawyer and losing wasn’t an option for him.
Mrs. Shedd walked up to the information desk holding a stack of books. I recognized the cover as being the one featuring Stone. She set them down on the counter in front of me. “Mr. Royal asked Stone if he’d sign these before he goes. He said he’s stop by this morning.”
“He’s leaving?” I said. Mrs. Shedd shrugged in answer and said that was what Mr. Royal said.
“I’ll send him over here when he comes in,” my boss said.
Mason and Stone arrived at the information desk together. What a weird pair they made. Mason in a suit and Stone in the khaki shorts, loose Hawaiian shirt and smelling of suntan lotion. I was relieved that Mason understood dealing with Stone was part of my job and he hung to the side while I took out a felt-tipped pen and opened the books to Stone’s picture.
“So, you’re leaving,” I said.
“In a couple of days. I want to go home, but first I have to go back to Denver and finish what I came for,” he said. “I was in the middle of finalizing the partnership for the energy drink when I got the call about Kelly.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything to help the cops close in on Dan,” I said. He began to scribble his name along the bottom of the photo of one of the books.
“I appreciate that you tried,” he said. Mr. Royal joined the little group and shook hands with Stone. He had the same awed look he’d had when Stone did the event and started talking about waves, riding tubes and how dangerous the pipeline was. I wondered if I should bring up the storage locker. Since I’d already ended up looking foolish once, and since I wasn’t completely sure about the contents being moved to a new locker, I kept quiet. I could see Mason was getting impatient and was edging closer.
Mr. Royal had taken over Stone, so I turned my full attention to Mason. It didn’t seem like the right time to discuss anything about us, so we made small talk until Mr. Royal shook Stone’s hand again and picked up the signed books before they parted company. Mason watched it all with a smile. “It’s funny how people worship athletes. Even one’s who have given up being professional.” Then he turned the conversation back to us.
“Sunshine, if all this is about last night, you have to give me another chance. I tried to get away, but Jaimee wouldn’t give up about the honeymoon trip. She kept working on Thursday, trying to get her on her side. Finally, I just said whatever. What was the difference?” I must have looked confused because he explained there had been a disagreement about the flight they should book for Thursday’s honeymoon. “I can’t believe you missed it. Jaimee was arguing with me about it nearly the whole time at that showroom.”