Read Online Behind the Seams by Betty Hechtman - Free Book Online

from the cabinet and joined the group. It was a simple pattern of double crochets and chain stitches and perfect when I needed something that was repetitive and relaxing.
    I’d just settled into a rhythm when CeeCee showed up. She was still wearing the outfit she’d worn on the show and appeared the least discombobulated of any of us.
    “I thought I’d find you all here.” She stopped at the head of the table, which was her usual place since she was more or less the leader of the group. “What an afternoon,” she said in a breezy tone. “Thanks to this Oscar buzz, everybody wants to do an interview with me. My publicist had set up a bunch for this afternoon. I just sat there as one group after the other came in and we had almost the exact same conversation.” She settled into a chair and produced a canvas bag with some yarn and hooks. “I need to unwind,” she said with a sigh. “I think the show went very well, except”—she glared at Adele—“I can’t believe you made a scene. Thank heavens no one knew I had any crochet connection.”
    Adele’s eyes flew skyward. “I can’t believe you’d try to deny your crochet heritage. You should be proud of your talent.” Adele picked through the donation box we’d set up to keep all the things we made for different charities and held up a precious baby blanket made in natural-colored organic cotton that CeeCee had made, to illustrate her point.
    CeeCee touched the blanket and said she was very pleased at how it had turned out. “I’m certainly a proud crocheter, but I don’t have to hit everybody over the head with a hook.” She gave Adele a pointed look. “Whatever you did caused all kinds of problems. As soon as the show wrapped, they whisked me out of there so fast I didn’t even get a chance to pick up my things. They just said there’d been some kind of trouble. And I think we know who caused it.”
    So CeeCee didn’t know what really happened. Nobody said anything, and the tension was so thick you could have cut it with a knife. For some reason, everybody looked toward me. “You tell her,” Rhoda said.
    “Tell me what?” CeeCee said, suddenly appearing wary.
    “There was an incident when Adele and I were in the waiting room,” I began. I just gave her the facts, but she did an excellent job of filling the blanks and appeared stricken. “They can’t possibly think my niece had anything to do with it. Besides, how could they tell so quickly it wasn’t some sort of seizure?”
    “Cop instinct,” I said. “Just like they decide who they think did it.” I realized what I’d said and wished I could take it back, but CeeCee went pale and pulled out her cell phone. She had her agent on the other end in no time. He didn’t know anything about the so-called incident but promised to find out all the details. “I think he knows more than he’s letting on,” she said to us in a pointed voice as she pushed the button to disconnect. She turned to Adele and me. “When was the last time you saw my niece?”
    I explained about them separating us, and then Adele made things worse by complaining she’d been grilled by the cops and they’d tried to pin the segment producer’s death on her.
    “This isn’t about you, Adele,” CeeCee said with a worried sigh. “I’m responsible for Nell.” She’d picked up her work but wasn’t crocheting. She leaned back in her chair with a heavy sigh. I said something about her being an adult, and CeeCee surprised me by snapping at me. “I can’t believe you don’t understand. You’re a mother. What if it was your son Samuel or Peter?”
    Okay, I got it. I told her about Mason’s offer to help, and she wanted me to call him. “He’s at a dinner meeting. I’d only want to bother him if . . .” I couldn’t bring myself to say it. I would disturb him only if Nell had been arrested.
    Bob showed up with a tray of coffee drinks and more of the chocolate samples.
    “Thank heavens,” CeeCee said, reaching