Mouth of the Rat (A Samantha Jamison Mystery) (6 page)

By the time I got to the door it was ringing again. Just as I opened it a crack, it jerked open. I lost my balance and promptly fell on my ass. As my eyes traveled upward, I took inventory: Sturdy gray walking shoes, blue polyester slacks… Then four familiar, heavily-ringed hands reached out to help me to my feet.

I laughed.

It was Hazel and Betty, the rest of my entourage.

“Isn’t this exciting? We’re on another case!” said Hazel.

“What are you doing on the floor?” Betty asked. The two of them pulled me upright.

“Why aren’t you two working at the bookstore?”

Betty shrugged. “It’s been closed for renovations.”

“Clay said it will take about a week,” said Betty.

Why would Clay close his store, The Bookworm, now?

Chapter 21

That Old Feeling

I sensed that old feeling floating around me, a fine mist of distrust. Was something up? Not that I was ungrateful for the extra seniors unexpectedly thrown my way. Any help in that department was much appreciated, but still…

I liked to think I always had the upper hand. Of course, I took it for granted that the scales leaned in my favor. But maybe that was Clay’s fault for continually letting me think I was the one coming up with all the doable plans to get out of whatever mess I always found myself in.

I just had this feeling that Clay was moving furniture behind the scenes again. Our sizzling on-again, off-again whatever-we-had-going-on, always left me doubtful. Plus, his background as a PI and associate of dubious agencies always left me guessing who was manipulating who?

“And whose idea was it to come down here?” I asked.

Tall and thin Betty patted at her gray hair bun. “Clay!”

Plump and curly, gray-haired Hazel said, “Martha!”

“Okay,” I asked skeptically. “Which one is it?”

Embarrassed, Betty recovered first. “Well, we…”

Then Hazel jumped in. “We thought that…”

Suspicious, I eyed the two spinsters. Neither one was looking me directly in the eye. I had that feeling…

“Come on. Out with it. Tell me the truth…now!”

Betty touched my arm. “We were going crazy up there.”

Hazel nodded. “Knowing Martha was working a case.”

“Working a case?”

“That’s the correct jargon, right, Betty?” Hazel asked.

Betty nodded. “Right on the mark and very apropos.”

I put my hands on my hips. “I know there’s more.”

“Well, Clay was worried about you,” said Hazel.

“And so were we,” added Betty.

I exhaled. “I appreciate the concern, but I can do this.”

Betty bit her lip. “We figured that, but…”

I cut her off. “Without anyone second-guessing me.”

Hazel looked crushed. “Does that include us, too?”

I smiled. “Considering your age, you guys can stay.”

Betty stifled a laugh. “In other words, you want to prove to Clay you can do this without his help just once, right?”

My face flushed. “Well, that too.”

“What do you mean, that too?” Hazel asked.

I sighed. “He’s a major distraction. There! I admit it!”

The two glanced at each other and burst out laughing, while I stood there trying to recoup, my face flushing pink.

Hazel patted me. “We’ve seen the sparks fly, dear.”

Betty laughed. “If I was just a tad younger, I’d…”

Hazel turned to her. “You’d what?”

Betty laughed again. “Give Sam a run for her money.”

I chuckled and relaxed. “Thanks, you two.”

Hazel moved closer, conspiratorially. “Now, fill us in.”

And so I did.

Chapter 22

And Then There Were Five

A short time later I realized I had one issue that needed resolving: sleeping arrangements. There were only
three
bedrooms and
five
of us. No, two issues. Martha and Mona had no clue who had arrived and they were due any minute.

This could get ugly.

I braced myself when I heard the door open. Martha and Mona barged in, arguing about something, as usual. Betty and Hazel were unpacking in my room. I didn’t relish breaking the news of their unexpected arrival, and then informing Martha that I’d be bunking with her. She would be extremely unhappy about that.

Martha had territorial issues. Come to think of it, she had issues with just about everything. After a while, I got used to it because she had a great perspective and a well-developed BS indicator. I guess it was a
it took one to know one
kind-of-thing.

Martha and Mona were still going at it and hadn’t noticed me sitting on the couch yet.

“How could you accuse me of that with a straight face?” said Mona, throwing up her hands. “That’s ridiculous!”

“Get a grip. You know it and I know it,” said Martha.

I stood up. “Know what?”

Martha clutched her chest. “God Almighty, Sam!”

Mona took a step back. “You can say that again.”

“You’re getting sneaky lately,” Martha said to me.

“No more sneaky than the two of you,” I shot back.

Mona grinned. “Was that a compliment? If so, thanks.”

“Me too, I think,” said the always-suspicious Martha.

“Now, tell me what’s so ridiculous?” I asked.

Mona threw her bag on the coffee table and then herself into a chair. “Martha thinks I’m not being, and I quote her, ‘forthright in what I know about this investigation,’ which is ridiculous. Why would I hold anything back when I need your help before something major happens?”

I wasn’t convinced either.
“Well, are you?”

“Go ahead. Tell her,” ordered Martha.

I turned to a pissed-off Martha. “What’s this about?”

“I found a card that slipped out of Mona’s bag when she dropped it getting out of her car a few minutes ago.”

Mona threw her a look. “Slipped? Slipped? Ha! You grabbed my purse, put your hand in, and latched onto the first thing you could. You pickpocket, you!”

Martha smiled. “That’s your take. I was merely getting a better grip on that monstrosity and my hand slipped inside.”

I got between them. “Enough! Where is the card?”

Martha held it up triumphantly. “She fought me for it, too, which I also found extremely suspicious.”

Mona made a lunge for it again. “Hey, it’s mine, you…”

I snatched it. “Down Under Club? Mona, is this yours?”

“…No. I lifted it off that agent at the spa.”

Martha snorted. “And you’re complaining about
me
?”

Chapter 23

It’s Not That Bad, Is It?

“It says ‘supper club’,” said Mona, “but I don’t buy it.”

I checked out the scantily clad women on the card.

“Supper club is stretching it.”

“Did I hear supper club? I’m starved,” said Hazel.

Martha and Mona whipped around, gaping at her.

“Sounds like fun,” said Betty joining the group.

For a second Martha was speechless. Mona was not.

“What in hell are they doing here? One is bad enough, but now three? Are you kidding me? What’s going on?”

I turned to her. “They sort of showed up an hour ago.”

Mona was ticked off. “What do you mean, sort of?”

“Okay, so they’re here. They wanted to be a part of the action.” I threw Martha an accusing glare. “I think they might have
heard
what’s going on, but not the specifics.”

Mona turned on Martha. “Oh, yeah? How interesting…”

Martha took a step back. “Well, I
may
have bragged.”

Mona fell back into her chair, her face in her hands.

I put my hand on her shoulder. “It’s not that bad, is it?”

“I am so screwed.”

“Isn’t that a little premature?” Martha asked. “Why, we haven’t done anything wrong, yet.”

Mona started to laugh hysterically.

“Maybe she’s gone into shock or something,” I said.

Martha looked at me. “Think I should slap her?”

“I’ll get some water,” offered Betty.

Hazel asked, “Has she been under pressure lately?”

Both Martha and I nodded.

Hazel bent beside Mona. “Does this involve guns?”

Mona looked up at her, replying, “Yes.”

Hazel grinned. “Good! We need a crime to sink our teeth into. The two of us were bored out of our skulls up in Highlands. This is just what we needed.”

Betty brought her water, and, as Mona sipped it, she said, “Well, I think we should help Mona share the burden of her stress and get to the bottom of this caper right away.”

Martha agreed. “Look at it this way, Mona. Now you’ve got three senior agents on the case, not just one.”

Mona shook her head. “I’m still screwed.”

“How so?” I asked.

“I can’t go. If
you
go to the club without
them
, they’ll get into trouble. Take
them
, they’ll get
you
into trouble.”

I scanned my crew. Martha had white, spiky-short hair, poking in all directions and she dressed like a neon sign, Betty was tall and thin; reading glasses hung from her neck, and she always wore her gray hair in a tight bun. Hazel was height-challenged, slightly pudgy, and had short, curly gray hair. They were a colorful, ill-assorted, AARP trio.

I slumped into the chair next to Mona.

“You’re right. You’re screwed.”

Martha harrumphed. “You two are neophytes!”

Mona glared. “What are you talking about?”

Chapter 24

Transformation & Transportation

“Another word choice is novices,” offered Hazel.

“Or in more plainer terms, amateurs,” added Betty.

Martha turned to Hazel and Betty, nodding. She then turned back to us and sighed at our stupidity.

“Okay, Einstein,” said Mona, impatiently. “Out with it.”

“Yeah, exactly what are you getting at?” I asked.

“It’s called camouflage. And the three of us would be willing to undergo the art of it so not to compromise the caper.” She turned back to Hazel and Betty. “Correct?”

They both nodded, obviously understanding instantly.

Mona shook her head, confused. “Speak in English.”

Martha looked us both up and down and frowned at our thirty-something, casual jean-clad legs and tee shirts, disapprovingl
y. We were too bland
. “If you two altered our styles into
your
version of more suitable attire, maybe we could go as a group.” She turned back to the ladies again. “We promise to behave and accept all risks, right, ladies?”

Hazel and Betty nodded enthusiastically.

Mona turned to face me. “You know, it might work.”

I glared at her. “You don’t expect me to go all alone to that club with this bunch, do you? It would be like running herd on stampeding cattle without a horse!”

“But how could I go?” Mona said. “I’m trying to stay out of it. I can’t be seen fact-gathering with you guys.”

Martha laughed. “No problem.”

Mona and I both turned to her. “How?” we asked.

Martha marched out of the room. Betty and Hazel just stood there, but they were giggling now.

“I don’t get it,” I said.

“I think she’s gone off the deep end,” said Mona.

In a minute, Martha was back with a small flexible tote that she must have had inside her larger, check-in luggage. We all leaned forward as she slowly unzipped the bag. She reached her hand in, whipping out some kind of, what looked like, a red, stuffed animal…
Maybe she was nuts.

“What the hell is that?” asked Mona, starting to laugh.

“What’s that furry thing got to do with this?” I asked.

“It’s a wig,” Martha said.

Looking closer, I realized it was. “That’s yours?”

“It’s for when I’m in a
playful
mood,” said Martha.

Mona said, “I’m not wearing that hideous, bright red…”

Martha grinned. “And why not? It’s my favorite color!”

The four of us silently looked at Mona, smiling.

“…No! No way! No how!” she said.

“Mona, it’s doable.” I said, realizing there would be another chaperone. Besides, she owned a gun and
carried
. After a dose of Thug One, I’d feel safer with her along.

She closed her eyes, leaned her head back, then finally said, “…On one condition. They must follow my orders.”

Martha smiled. “A piece of cake. No worries!”

I was already texting my insurance agent.

Chapter 25

Standing On The Corner…

By the time they had raided Mona’s closet and mine, night had fallen. Martha borrowed my black short skirt and Mona’s red leather boots. I fought her on the combo, but she insisted they matched her rose-tinged sunglasses.

Hazel and Betty wore Mona’s spike heels, black tights and beaded tops and caps to cover their gray hair, Betty’s clothes pinned, Hazel’s not, to complete their outfits. Mona’s oversized sunglasses topped it off. If they leaned close to each other to avoid wobbling, they’d pull it off.

Me? I had on skinny black jeans, a gray body-clinging top that came down to my hips and black heels. My purse was slung over my head and shoulder.

Mona had on light gray slacks, ballerina flats and a loose, black, short-sleeved wrap,
camouflaging her gun
. An understated look, until she put on that damn red wig. The whole purpose of this was to camouflage and blend in
.

Mona entered the card’s address into her car’s GPS.