Mouth of the Rat (A Samantha Jamison Mystery) (4 page)

“Why? Do they keep a tight schedule around here?”

“They sure do,” said Sylvie. “That’s when I heard it.”

I looked from one to the other. “Heard what?”

“That popping noise, twice!” said, Sylvie.

“It was hard to ignore,” said Bunny.

“Are you sure?” I asked, skeptically.

Bunny nodded. “We watch a crime show or two.”

“Religiously,” said Sylvie, preening at their expertise.

I was dying to ask more, but they both leaned back.

I leaned back and shut my eyes, frustrated.

“There’s just one more thing,” Bunny finally said.

I opened one eye. “And what’s that?”

“It doesn’t explain that last popping noise I heard.”

Now both my eyes were open. “When was that?”

Bunny looked both ways. “After everyone had left.”

Chapter 12

Say What?

“Say what?” I asked, sitting upright again.

“That’s right,” said a nervous Bunny, fingering her hair.

“Are you sure you heard this?”

“It was a beautiful night,” said Bunny. “I had my patio doors wide open. I couldn’t help but hear it.”

I had to take advantage of this encounter and get some useful information, but Bunny drew back, reluctant to share more. So I focused on Sylvie instead.

“Did you happen to hear any conversations?”

But then Sylvie wore an odd look. “Well, I…”

Bunny lurched upright, glancing down at her watch.

“We have to go, Sylvie. We’re late for tennis.”

“Anything else that seemed unusual?” I asked, stalling.

They eyed each other. One blinked, the other didn’t.

What did they know, but weren’t telling?

“We’ll get together for drinks, okay?” offered Sylvie.

I turned to Bunny, but she was already at the pool gate.

“When? What about…” I asked, grabbing my laptop.

I was talking to no one. Angry, I stamped my foot.

Too hyper to sit and relax poolside, I packed up. I would have to wait until Mona returned to hear what she knew about those two women. In the meantime, Martha had her tennis date with Irving. Both encounters should prove interesting.

I was crossing the small, narrow street heading toward Mona’s driveway when I glanced further up the side street. Catching sight of Puff Ball and Thug One stopped me cold. How’d he get into this gate-guarded community?

Then it hit. Did he live here? That had me thinking about how safe this guarded club actually was. I wouldn’t be able to do a thing without him knowing my every move.

But I wouldn’t have to be the only one asking and probing. Martha, my so-called ‘senior’ agent, would, too. I kept walking, but stopped again. Thug One had already spotted her with Mona and me at Villagio. Wouldn’t work.

I sighed. So much for that brainstorm.

I unlocked the front door and set my laptop on the table and walked over for a better look through the glass sliders. Thug and his pooch were walking the curve on the edge of the golf course. He was reaching for something behind some large shrubs. It was a bike. He quickly placed the small pooch in the basket mounted on the handlebars.

Could he have gained entry that way? He probably rode through, like he belonged here and even waved to the guard as he did. I’d seen it done with someone else the day before as I drove through the gate. If you acted like you belonged here, and were not driving, maybe you could slip in.

I stood there watching him, getting a bad feeling about this as he rode off like he owned the place.

Was he attached to Marco’s ex or was he freelancing?

Chapter 13

A Matched Set

After finishing up my notes, I went back to look out at the golf course, trying to get a mental handle on my previous sighting. I jumped when I heard the doorbell start ringing insistently. I turned and hustled over, but then hesitated. Would Thug One have circled back? For what? More intimidation? I peeked through the blinds, breathed a sigh of relief, then unlocked and opened the door.

Martha stood there, looking ruffled around the edges, her face flushed and sweaty. “I forgot my key. I need water.”

“What happened to you?” I asked, as she hurried by.

“Tennis!”

I locked the door behind her. “What’s does that mean?”

“You know how I hate to lose at anything.”

“…And that applies to tennis, which you don’t play?”

“Exactly,” she said, gulping down some water.

“So what happened?”

“We beat them by a h-a-r-e!” she spelled. “Now, who the heck names their child, Bunny? Can you believe it?”

I couldn’t help it and started laughing.

Martha glared. “I
know
you’re not laughing at me.”

“Wouldn’t think of it. I believe I met the two women you played. Does this mean you met your match?”

“Very funny play on words. You know those two?”

“I met them a couple of hours ago by the pool.”

“I’m ruthless, but that was a life or death duel,” she said.

I told her how I met them and what they had to say about the night that Marco was shot. “They’re probably widows. It’s clear what they were fighting over: Irving’s attention. What they said and heard is disturbing.”

“You can say that again!”

“Yeah, but it’s not much to go on. And I’m not aware of any bullets being dug out of any walls.”

Martha eyed me. “Maybe they all hit their mark.”

We both thought of a dead Marco and paused.

“…But what about that last popping noise?” I asked her.

“Who else could’ve gotten shot at?” Martha asked.

“They insisted they heard it afterward, too,” I said.

Martha paced back and forth. “All we have to do is find who could have been in this condo after everyone left.”

We turned to each other, both saying, “…Mona?”

“I’ll start dinner,” I said. “We’ll grill fish, then Mona.”

“No!” said Martha.

“And why not?”

“Because we’re having dinner at the club.”

“Since when?”

“Since Irving invited us three for a special club buffet.”

Once more we eyed each other in silence.

“I figured we could mix and mingle,” explained Martha.

“And maybe pick up on some more clues?” I suggested.

She grinned. “Trust me, seniors don’t miss a thing.”

“I’m beginning to realize that more and more.”

Martha sized me up. “Stay away from the widowers.”

“Why?”

“With your looks? That’s the kiss of death for sure.”

Chapter 14

A Feast For The Eyes

Salivating was not exaggerating Martha’s reaction when she gaped at all the food stations with chefs.

“Whatever the occasion, I’m all for it,” she said.

Mona turned. “You referring to the food or the chefs?”

Martha smiled sweetly. “Look who’s talking!”

I stepped in between the two, whispering, “Cut it out.”

“Mona’s sniping is interfering with my mental energy.”

Mona threw Martha a look. “Never stopped you before.”

“Nothing’s stopped your appetite before either.”

“Are you referring to my size?” Mona hissed across me.

I had substituted a new problem for the two I left behind in Highlands, Hazel and Betty. “Keep it down, you two.”

Irving caught up to us after giving his member ID at the podium. We hastily transformed into a trio of good cheer.

Then I was abruptly left standing there while Martha and Mona each latched onto one of Irving’s arms as the hostess escorted us to a corner table overlooking the lake.

I quickly caught up, since I wanted to grab my usual seat with my back to the window. Martha quickly grabbed the one to my right at the other side of the corner. Mona gave us a look and reluctantly took one on my left, which gave her a partial view of the room. Irving, a gentleman, waited, then took the last seat.

I wanted a full view of who was there and what was going on. The place was packed. A full buffet always drew crowds of unlimited eaters. And after seeing that lobster on display on my way to the table, I figured the buffet probably also came with a hefty price tag.

Wine was served, we made a few toasts, and then the band began. Irving and Martha headed to the dance floor with several other couples. Women threw visual daggers at Martha’s mostly exposed back, as she elegantly tossed her head, laughing at something Irving was saying.

Mona turned back to me and said, “Hey, this is a rough crowd. Did you see those looks Martha’s getting?”

“You know, I think we are the youngest ones here.”

She eyed the tables. “We’re definitely in the minority.”

An elderly gentleman asked Mona to dance. Bored, she shrugged, meaning, why not? I let my eyes wander for a while, wondering how on earth I’d be able to find the mysterious Carlos in this crowd, but then decided to hit the ladies room. I had just shut the door on the stall when two women came in. I recognized their voices at once: Sylvie and Bunny.

I was about to shout out to them and unlock the door, but stopped when I heard Sylvie ask, “What are we going to do? I got another hang-up today.”

“So did I,” said Bunny.

“I don’t like it. Think someone saw us?” asked Sylvie.

I could hear Bunny pacing. “What do you think we should do?”

I was in the farthest stall; my feet now up on the toilet.

“Where have you hidden it?” asked Sylvie.

“It’s in my purse. Come on, someone’s coming in.”

Who saw them? Doing what? What was Bunny hiding?

Chapter 15

Unsavory Speculation

By the time I made it back to the table, Mona looked nervous and flustered, and quickly honed in on me, as I approached, obviously waiting for my return. I briefly glanced to the dance floor. Martha and Irving were still dancing. Martha was grinning. I knew she’d be pumping Irving for info and anything else that would help us.

I had no sooner sat down to tell Mona what I’d overheard, when she grabbed my arm.

“What?”

“You will never guess who that man was!” She was agitated, but trying to hide it.

I looked around. “Who? What man?”

“The one I danced with.”

“Is this relevant or just a gossip item I’m about to hear?”

She ignored my jab. “He was a friend of Marco.”

“But he looked like he’s in his seventies.”

“He probably is.”

“Marco was in his forties. How did they know each other? I heard the geriatric set down here can get cliquish.”

“Art. They met at his gallery, and that’s how Marco found out about this country club and bought his condo.”

“I wonder if he knows Marco’s Uncle Carlos?”

“I was thinking the same thing, so I mentioned it.”

“And?”

Mona frowned. “He said that Marco never mentioned having an uncle. Can you believe that?”

No, I couldn’t. Something wasn’t right.

I leaned in so no one else could hear me. “Either Marco deliberately kept that a secret, or that man was lying.”

“Why would Marco keep it a secret?”

“That could be a rat’s nest of scenarios.”

“Such as? I’m always curious how your mind works.”

“Yeah, I know. It scares me, too.”

“So? What do you think?”

“Is his Uncle Carlos legit?” I asked.

“The way Marco described him, it seemed he was.”

“Okay, then why didn’t Marco tell you his new name?”

“I guess he figured he still had time, but
his
ran out.”

“…Maybe something happened to Carlos, too.”

“I’m trying real hard to not go there.”

“Why?”

“Because that means I’m stuck with those damn cars.”

“Stuck is a bad thing? They’re worth a fortune, right?”

“What good is a fortune if I’m not alive to enjoy it?”

“Good point,” I said. “We have to find Uncle Carlos.”

“Why did he put me in this position?”

“That’s what I don’t get. If he cared, why?”

Mona looked away. “Don’t say it. Not yet, anyway.”

I felt her pain, knowing what she was thinking.

‘Was I used again?’

More to distract her than because I wanted to, I changed the subject: “Mona, I have to tell you about this thug I met…”

When I finished, she said, “They must think you’re more than just a visiting friend.”

I described him, then said, “Seen him at the club?”

“No.” She looked around. “I don’t see him here either.”

Now, why did I have a feeling he’d be back?

Chapter 16

Dancing With Danger

After dinner, people drifted to the dance floor. Irving snatched Martha for a few more dances before the widows latched onto him. They had been trying, but Martha kept them at bay. I think her tactics relieved Irving, who was obviously enjoying her company. Instead of being pursued by a flock of women, he was charmed by one. Martha had managed to keep him laughing all night long.

I felt a tap on my shoulder. An older gentleman asked me to dance. He looked familiar. Mona nudged me, and using her eyebrows and eyes to communicate, made me realize he was the same guy she had danced with earlier.

She nudged me again, smiling at me, then at the guy.

“Sidney, this is that author, Samantha, that I told you about, who is visiting me for a week. Sam, this is Sid.”

I shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Sid.”

He grinned down at me. “Likewise, I’m sure.”

“Go ahead, Sam,” said Mona, nudging me again.