Without Any Warning (A Samantha Jamison Mystery Volume 2) (24 page)

Chapter 85

Putting A Portrait In Perspective

Each time I thought about it, I had convinced myself it was a good idea, one worth pursuing, backtracking to Mona. I wanted to follow up on the Josephina question to see how far it took me, putting a better picture on the Mona landscape. Besides, what did I have to lose? On second thought, I wasn’t placing any bets on it helping because my track record on getting people to answer honestly wouldn’t exactly win any awards.

One thing I had noticed recently was that Mona wasn’t making any more trips to Dunkin Donuts or the nefarious motel on the strip. The Borgata was probably a dead end too. So many people go in and out of there, it was hard to keep track of any one individual. So I gave up on that one. It was probably dumb luck Bill had spotted her there that one and only time.

So, again I tried taking the lead on this thing to see where it would get me.

We were eating pizza at an outdoor table at Randazzo’s. I had to admit, it was a pretty good pizza too. I invited Mona; my treat. She accepted happily.

“Any special reason for the invitation?” Mona asked, biting into her slice of pizza, and as usual, always on guard.

I didn’t want her to clam up, so I came on easy. “I thought we’d start trying different pizza places around Ocean City for a taste comparison test. Mack and Manco is next on the list.”

She seemed to relax somewhat. “Great idea, but I think we might want to space out the samplings for my benefit. I wouldn’t want Martha or Crystal to start harassing me about watching what I eat. They’re like a couple of food hawks, jazzing me whenever they catch me snacking. Talk about the food police! I’ve become a stealth eater since they arrived. It’s pitiful.”

I laughed. “Don’t be offended. They’re really doing it for you because they care.”

Mona took a sip of her diet coke, laughing. “And does that include all the names they toss in my direction? How can I enjoy eating, while they’re giving me the evil eye?”

I tried not to look too pointedly at her – uh – hefty physique. “It’s for your own good. Listen; speaking of names, I’ve always wondered what the initial J stood for in yours. Jennifer? Jean? What?”

It was a bad segue, but hey, short notice.

She took it for what it was, small talk. “Josephina. Why?”

“Just curious, that’s all. Why the Italian spin?”

“My parents loved Italian and art. And so the name, Mona.” She stared at my blank look. “Mona Lisa?”

“Oh! Like in Da Vinci!” What about Josephina?”

“My father’s name was Joseph.”

I laughed again. “I guess calling you Joseph wouldn’t have scored any points at school, especially with the boys.”

“I was never really that concerned, because I only used the middle initial, but no, I don’t think I would have liked it at all.”

I thought back to my quest when she fell off the ends of the earth. “Mona, I searched a few years back, trying to locate your parents, hoping to find you.”

Her eyes misted. “They died in a car accident awhile ago. As an only child, they were all the family I had.”

Well, that news nailed another potential theory of mine shut.

Chapter 86

Connecting The Barbara Factor

Factoring in my data was tedious, but necessary as far as connecting all the dots, but I finally shut down my laptop, and headed for the kitchen to throw together a quick salad with sliced chicken on top for an early dinner.

Barbara joined me and without needing to ask, opened up a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc, poured us two glasses, made a toast, rolled up her sleeves, and placed some fresh tomatoes on the other cutting board. The company was welcome.
For female therapy? Exchanging confidences?
I was about to find out.

“How’s it going?” she asked, as she snatched a knife from the butcher block and promptly went to work.

I looked over at her. “Some days the words flow and on others they don’t. I can’t complain. How about you?”

She abruptly stopped slicing, resting her hands on the counter. “Look, I’m not big on pretenses. Something’s happened and I need to tell you about it. And since you’re involved, we thought you should know.”

I stopped chopping. “Who do you mean,
we?”

She turned to face me and I turned as well, but you could see that she was having a difficult time starting. So I waited.

“…Jack called me last night, saying someone’s been calling around Highlands, asking about you on the phone.”

My mouth went dry. “You’re kidding!”

“No. They didn’t get very far because no one had much to say one way or the other, just what was already public knowledge regarding you, Stephen, and his car accident.”

“Did anyone recognize the person’s voice? Young? Old? How about the gender?”

 
“Not really. The voice whispered into a bad connection. Apparently whoever it was didn’t stay on the phone that long either.”

“Well, that’s sounds sort of strange and kind of scary too.”

“Jack thought so, after hearing what I told him. He’s asking around to find out more, but still said to warn you.”

“What do you mean warn me? What did you tell him?”

Barbara reached into her pocket and withdrew a piece of paper. “The phone rang yesterday and I picked up, but someone else had picked up first. All I caught was someone whispering to someone else on your house line.” She looked at her notes. “That ‘the calls were a dead end.’ They were ‘going to have to push back to make it happen.’ That’s it. Whoever was on your house line didn’t say a word.”

“Where was I?” I asked, not liking how this sounded.

“Remember you were real tired and took a nap?”

“Well, who else was around at the time this took place?”

“That’s just it. Everyone, including the cleaning crew.”

“Barbara, why did you wait so long to tell me this?”

“I did some investigating on my own, casually asking around.”

I was already trying to mentally connect the unknown X factor, but it wasn’t happening.

Barbara hesitated. “…Everyone pretty much had an excuse for not being near the phone except for…”

“Yeah…? Except for who?” I asked, waiting patiently.

“The cleaning crew and of course and…”

“Who else?” I asked anxiously, but then I suddenly knew who it was.

Barbara sighed. “…I’m sorry, Sam. …Crystal.”

Chapter 87

Cornering & Catching The Crystal Ball

Cornering Crystal and catching her on the fly was intimidating, unless you refined your moves just right. I wasn’t sure about anyone else, but my moves weren’t that bad. Mental moves that is. Forget the physical.

I had to make things happen and get the ball rolling on this latest development and so I headed over to find Crystal for some answers. I didn’t feel the need to waste my time trying to finesse another language, so I aimed straight for who was most likely knee deep in the phone call itself, their boss, Harley girl.

She was working at David’s with her crew, cleaning his house while he was out,
who knew where
. Besides, I couldn’t take a chance questioning her over at my house with my senior staff snooping around for hard evidence.

For all I knew, this whole thing might be nothing more than an innocent misinterpretation of what Barbara actually heard. At least, that’s what I was hoping for. I’d hate to think that, after all this time, Crystal was involved. I had actually grown attached to her boisterous, in your face, personality – her take-no-prisoners kind of attitude. But then again, maybe there was more to it.

I rang the doorbell and walked in. Vacuums were running and cloths were dusting, right along with IPods and earplugs doing their thing. I came up behind Crystal, yanking one plug from her ear so she could hear me.

“Hey,” I greeted.

“What the hell?” she shouted, whipping her mop around.

I ducked. “Whoa! Easy with the karate! It’s me, Sam.”

“You almost got nailed. Next time, try the doorbell!”

I gave her a look. “I did.” Then I pointed to her IPod.

She looked down at the hanging plug. “Oh.”

I feigned indignation. What, no apologies for the almost physical attack?”

“They’re offered so seldom, that when I can think of one, I’ll hand it on over. Okay?” she retorted, giving an uncertain laugh.

“I knew it was her way of apologizing and accepted it. “Sounds good to me,” I replied. “You know the address.”

She leaned against her mop, but not before checking her watch. With her, it was always about the time. “What’s up, Sam?”

“I know time is money. So, I’ll get straight to the point.”

She smiled. “Smart girl. I appreciate the gesture.”

“Crystal, I heard something that disturbed me about you.”

She paused, her smile long forgotten. “…And that would be?”

I dove in. “Someone overheard you on my house phone the other day speaking about some calls being made that weren’t working out. What calls were they referring to? To whom?”

She started to laugh. “A customer owes me money and left town without paying. Big bucks were involved. I don’t come cheap. They weren’t answering my calls for payment. I was considering tracking down the guy’s address to pay a visit, just to intimidate. I don’t take getting monetarily screwed lightly.”

 
I stood still realizing that another one of my potential theories was heading down the toilet, just like all the others.

You know, I could never make this a career. I couldn’t afford all these humiliations.

Chapter 88

Chapter In Question

Chapters were digitally saved on my laptop, two disks and a thumb drive. I wasn’t taking any chances on losing any of it. I flicked the safe closed and checked the handle. I frowned though, because, unfortunately, my manuscript was still incomplete and the ending still uncertain. How could I finish my book when there was nothing more in my possession that would help me solve the unsolvable? Where was the elusive disc? How could I eliminate the threat hanging over my head if I couldn’t find that damn thing?

The doorbell rang. Once. Twice. Three times. Then it dawned on me everyone was elsewhere doing their thing and I was the only one around to answer. I flew down to the foyer and swung the door open. Before me stood an elderly gentleman, I’d say, shy of six foot, medium build, white hair, and on the lean side of good-looking.

“I’m here for a particular lady,” he said, winking slyly.

Of course! Martha’s legendary, significant other, Roland!

“Sorry, I’m the only one here at the moment.” I replied.

He seemed friendly enough, but still there was
something.

“Can I help you?” I offered pleasantly.

“I’m sure you can,” he replied, his foot already stepping in confidently.

 
All at once, I felt the hairs rise along my neck, not unlike they had once before back in Highlands.

Was this man really the nice old geezer Martha had said he was, or could this possibly be someone other than Martha’s elderly beau?

My inner warning hovered. I was alone in the house, speaking with a stranger, and not knowing if a potential threat was bearing down on me.

Should I ignore it?

He smiled. “Do you mind if I come in and wait for her?”

I stepped back mentally, and then physically. “…I guess,” I replied, tossing off my imaginative writer’s thought process.

“Thank you, I appreciate the friendly meet and greet.”

“You’re welcome. You might as well wait upstairs. She shouldn’t be that long.”

We climbed the stairwell.

Once there, I checked him out. There was no way this guy was ninety-one! Sixties? But then again, I could never tell, being a bad judge of age, especially after fudging mine for years at the age of thirty…

Oh well, never mind.
…Now, where was I?

His eyes were darting around. Looking.
Searching
.

I stopped cold when it finally dawned on me.

Could this be Joey?

I backed up a pace, my eyes searching for a weapon just in case, but saw only some framed pictures.

Damn.

“Nice place,” he offered, still glancing about, looking for …
what?

“It’s a great lease,” I responded, growing more and more uneasy.

He abruptly spun around, a silver gun in his right hand.

Oh my God! Sam, think,
my mind screamed!

“…Joey?” I finally choked out.

“Good call. But let’s start a new chapter here. Shall we, Sam?”

Defiantly, I tried to take the lead. “I don’t have it.”

“Good. I like a no-nonsense woman. But you’re lying.”

“Why would I lie? I have no horse in this race.”

“Yes, you do,” he said. “It’s yours to win or lose, Sam.”

I swallowed hard. “Can I ask one question? How?”

“Martha!” he shot back. “Mind if I have a smoke?”

“Are you kidding me?” I asked, loudly
.

Was this guy crazy?

“Hey, easy there, blondie, it’s only a cigarette!”

“No, I meant Martha. What’s she got to do with this?”

Suddenly my eyes were drawn to his gun. I couldn’t believe it! Was he actually going to pull the trigger?

“Hey, wait a minute! What good would it do you to kill me? Then you’ll never find what you’re looking for.”

He hesitated.

“Can’t we at least discuss this?” I pleaded.

“No! I’m under a lot of stress. Deal with it, blondie!”

I shut my eyes, panic stricken and waited.…and waited. …Nothing happened! I slowly opened one eye and then the other.

Why, he was lighting up with his gun!