The Lush Life (Samantha Jamison Mystery Book 8) (2 page)

Chapter 2

But Then Again, Why Not?

Mona bit her lip. “A real surprise to some, right, Sam?”

Responsible for this home, my eyes veered to Teddy. He appeared distracted by two oil paintings hanging above the
Worths
’ foyer table or was he more interested in the framed antique mirror between them?

Who was this guy? What was this fiancé thing?

I smiled tightly. “Yup, it’s always a real surprise.”

Mona gave me a slight nod of relief.

“You got my email about our arrival, right?” she asked.

I glanced from Mona to Teddy, who was now watching and waiting for my response to Mona. I was flying blind here. I raked my fingers through my hair then played along.

“Sure. How long were you two planning to stay?”

“...Uh, just a few days,” Mona said, now relaxing.

“But all that’s left is the apartment over the garages.”

Mona frowned. “No other rooms are available?”

I faltered. “...Why, are more people coming?”

“No, but it’s such a big house. I thought...”

Then I realized she didn’t know. “The
ladies
are here,”

She eye-rolled. “Just what I needed: that senior trio.”

“I thought you’d be more excited,” I said, smirking.

“Can’t wait to see them,” she threw back, brightly.

Sure didn’t sound it.

“Don’t you have bags to bring in?” I asked.

Mona turned to Teddy. “Do you mind getting them?”

Tossing her a megawatt smile, he said, “Sure, Baby.”

After Mona closed the door, I choked out, “...Baby?”

“Hey, he’s no mental workout, but the rest of him does.”

“What’s going on? What’s with the fiancé routine?”

“He thinks you’re my long lost sister and...”

I cut her off. “Now where did he get that crazy idea?”

“I’m not getting all your questions...”

I pushed back once again. “But this isn’t my house...”

“
I
know that, but
he
doesn’t. That’s why we’re here.”

She always talked in circles. “For what, may I ask?”

“Are you dense? For what might be going down!”

I swallowed hard, knowing her and not liking where this conversation was heading. “...Going down? Where?”

Mona glanced at those two paintings over the foyer table then turned back to me clearly disturbed by my response to her arrival. “Why, here, of course!”

“I’m hearing and so not liking what you just said.”

“You’re the one who preaches expect the unexpected!”

“And the unexpected involves this particular location?”

“And my skills,” said, Mona, losing her patience.

“Sorry, Mona, I need more than that to go on.”

“What’s with you? Why are you acting this way, Sam?”

I knew her now familiar
modus operandi
of stretching the truth. “I’m gun-shy from past experience,” I countered.

“Then consider this encounter one more learning curve.”

“In what, how to dodge another bullet?”

“Like the saying goes: practice makes perfect.”

There were info gaps in Mona’s unexpected appearance and exactly why she was here a mile wide.

“Ah, the expert at taking literary license
(lying)
speaks,” I shot back.

She gave a sly grin. “I leave the literary to you. I have the license to carry a gun. When called to duty, I show up. It’s as simple as that.”

Called to duty?
That last cliché got me. “By whom?”

Mona’s phone dinged then she held up her finger while she read a text message. I tried to read it, too, but she hastily deleted it so I couldn’t then she said, “Hey, I should keep an eye on Teddy. We’ll talk later.”

I was left standing in the foyer as Mona took off for the side entrance to join Teddy and help empty their car.

I reluctantly shut the door, muttering, “Yeah, but by that time I’ll be regretting I ever opened the door on this one.”

As I exited the foyer, I considered the significance of Mona’s sudden reappearance, grudgingly admitting it just might be the diversion I needed from a month of boredom that was already staring me in the face: babysitting this house. Clay had already taken off for his next case and my last mystery was put to bed. So why all the foot-dragging on my part? Why was I resisting what had unexpectedly arrived at my doorstep? I laughed.

Because big trouble always followed Mona, that’s why.

Chapter 3

Deal Or No Deal

My definition of a zoo: A place or situation that’s crowded, or a group that is loud and uncontrolled. That accurately would describe the
Worths
’ house once Martha, Betty, and Hazel learned the thirtyish duo, Mona and her fiancé, Teddy, were in residence over the
Worths
’ garages.

So with Clay long gone by the time Mona and her honey arrived, I figured that was probably a good thing. He would have wanted to hang around to scrutinize Teddy, before the three ladies had the chance to first check him out
(ogle him)
then digitally probe his background.

I was relieved when I caught Teddy trailing after Mona, toting two carry-on bags up to the garage apartment.

Good
,
that meant they weren’t staying that long.

While the two lovebirds unpacked, I went to the kitchen. I watched from the doorway, smiling at my seventyish sleuthing crew, Martha, Betty, and Hazel as they set up for dinner. I trusted them implicitly and admired their intuition and how clever yet different they were from each other. I quickly filled them in on our new houseguests.

The thin and fashion-challenged Martha with her
spikey
white short hair asked, “Why’d Mona show up out of the blue with some hunk, who’s supposedly her fiancé?”

Tall and reedy Betty tucked some loose gray strands back into her bun and asked, “Is this her second or third?”

Shorter, plump Hazel with her curly, gray hair chuckled. “Engaged in Ocean City, an alleged marriage in Boca, now
maybe
a fiancé? She’s all over the map with relationships.”

“I admit, it’s never dull with her around,” said Martha.

I laughed. “It’s never dull with you three either. Besides, I’m always outnumbered. Mona’s my perfect age-equalizer to my favorite and unpredictable senior crew.”

Martha harrumphed. “We’re your
only
senior crew.”

Betty and Hazel initially fooled people by their proper, old-fashioned behavior, but were a nice counter-balance to Martha’s in-your-face personality. They were all a constant in my life, challenging me to take mental and physical leaps that I never would have considered before I met them.

Mona, on the other hand, kept popping in and out of our lives both helping and hindering, but in the end, coming through only to disappear to who knew where. We were never inclined to delve too deeply into her legal and illegal connections as long as it didn’t involve jail time for us.

Clay, my
very personal undercover
, private investigator, used Mona and her networking skills to assist him on some of his investigations whenever they were needed.

I grabbed some tomato/basil wraps, slathered on some Parmesan/ranch dressing, slices of turkey, baby lettuce, diced tomato, cucumber, and shredded mozzarella cheese.

Hazel folded them. “Why would she bring Teddy here?”

“And what do you think is going down?” added Betty.

“We must separate Mona and Teddy from each other,” I said. “I need some answers. Any suggestions on how we’ll accomplish that small miracle?”

There was a moment of silence.

“I’ll do it,” sighed Martha. “The sacrifices I make...”

I nodded, not quite sure how Martha would pull off finding out just why and Mona and Teddy had shown up, but knowing her, she’d get it done, and
very
creatively too.

Betty just shook her head. “Oh, poor Teddy.”

Hazel never looked up while plating the wraps. “He’ll never know what hit him.”

I stared over at the ever-flamboyant Martha, who was now whistling while she cleaned up the counters. I could also hear those wheels turning. She was plotting already.

“I still have a trick or two up my sleeve,” she chuckled.

Martha, her stilettos, and Teddy all in one room.

Chapter 4

Descriptions & Grammatical Errors

Definition of an anomaly:
Something that deviates from what is considered normal or expected, an inconsistency.
That pretty much summed up my relationship with Clay, which wasn’t exactly what you’d call normal. We stayed in the same place with irregularity. Our whole relationship was a definite-maybe.

Clay and I go way back to when I was chasing down leads to find out why my husband, Stephen, had died under suspicious circumstances. Little did I know at that time when I first met Clay, he was not only a quaint bookshop owner, but also a very sly PI: a private investigator.

With and without Clay’s help, I solved that mystery. Of course, we both had commitment issues. So we eventually worked through my lack of trust in his slick segues in what was really going on back when we first met by managing some great
undercover
moments since then.

I’d say my relationships with my crew are ones for the books: my books. Each time we all get together to solve a another mystery, it ends up in my next novel. My agent usually fields my sometimes outrageous stall tactics, while my editor thinks up red side-margin, spot-on comments that are not only helpful, but give me a chuckle or two, while she critiques the believability of my mysteries and sentence structure. I love her to death, but...

Hey, we’re talking fiction, right? I always counter many people and characters speak grammatically incorrect.

* * * * *

Take note of the following:

“This was the most unkindest cut of all.”

(Marc Anthony - Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar: Double superlative)

“To boldly go where no man has gone before.”

(An intro to each episode of Star Trek: split infinitive)

“You
ain’t
heard nothing yet, folks.”

(Al Jolson – Movie: The Jazz Singer: Double negative.)

P.S. Thank you, James
Harbeck
for those fine examples.

(I could go on and on.)

Hopefully, you understand the essence of my point.

(Adverbs first, tend to show the speaker’s attitude)

...chuckle

* * * * *

Martha surveyed the
Worths
’ impressive kitchen. “We sure were lucky to stay another month in these deluxe digs with all this stainless steel, granite, and marble.”

I stared out the floor-to-ceiling whole wall of windows showcasing the back gardens while I sliced some baby Bella mushroom then turned back to the others. “So what do we owe Mona’s visit to other than her potential fiancé?”

Hazel put butter and olive oil into the pan. “I certainly didn’t expect her pending engagement.”

Betty grabbed some Italian balsamic vinegar to drizzle over the just-sliced tomatoes, buffalo mozzarella, and the garden-fresh basil on the platter. “From what you said, it all sounds so cloak and dagger.”

Martha stopped tearing up the Romaine lettuce leaves. “I noticed she wasn’t too excited we’re here. Must have put a crimp in her elaborate plans, whatever they were.”

Hazel turned to Martha. “Why do you say that?”

“Whenever Mona shows up there’s usually trouble.”

“True, but that’s what’s so exciting!” exclaimed Hazel.

I shook my head. “You’ve all read too many mysteries.”

“No,” said Martha. “We’ve been involved in too many.”

I handed over all the newly-sliced mushrooms to Hazel, who then slid them easily into the hot pan. I then sprinkled on some salt and pepper as they began to sizzle.

“I’d like to know what we’re dealing with,” I said.

“Do you think she’ll tell us the truth?” asked Martha.

“I sure hope so,” I replied, then chuckled. “And to think I thought I’d be bored once I finished my last mystery.”

“Bored never seems to come into the equation where we’re concerned, does it?” Martha said.

“Sam, your grin says you love every minute of intrigue that lands in your lap,” laughed Betty.

I tried to suppress another chuckle, but failed.

“And,” added Hazel, “as long as you have us, your top-notch sleuthing team backing you up, you’re golden.”

But as I considered Mona’s unexpected and suspicious arrival, I began to feel itchy. Like people get who ignore all the warnings about its hazards, but still walk right through poison ivy. Why turn back? I was already exposed.

I had stepped into it, but the question was, into what?