Mouth of the Rat (A Samantha Jamison Mystery) (10 page)

BOOK: Mouth of the Rat (A Samantha Jamison Mystery)
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It was no longer there. “Damn.”

Where could it be? I walked around for several minutes thinking maybe I was confused and had left it elsewhere, but kept coming back to where I knew I had initially left it.

I dialed 911,
the real one.

What was going on?

None of this made any sense
.

Was someone playing mind games with me?

Sure looked like it
.

Why would they be doing that?

Maybe it’s a not so subtle message they were watching.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 40

Pacing & Pondering

 

 

I was pacing back and forth. “Talk about bizarre!”

Martha was still shaking her head. “Why return it?”

I stopped. “I still can’t believe someone stole my car, then it shows up, of all places, at the car rental parking lot.”

“It does sound a little odd, dear,” said Betty.

“I probably sounded like a complete idiot when they called and asked why I left my car rental in their parking lot. Was it my intention to return it early? Then it dawned on me to stop babbling because they might not let me go down there to take it back.”

“It’s a good thing,” said Hazel, “you said Martha called saying she returned it for you, thinking you wouldn’t need it when you made up with your boyfriend at the restaurant.”

I laughed. “I didn’t know what else to say.”

“I guess thinking fast on your feet worked,” said Betty.

Hazel eyed Martha. “Of course, dealing with her…”

Martha cut in. “Keeps you two ladies on your toes.”

“So now what?” I asked, ignoring their banter.

Martha looked up at me. “It’s time to confront Mona.”

“You’re right. She’s the key to this whole thing.”

“It all leads back to her, doesn’t it?” Betty asked.

“She’s holding back,” said Hazel.

“I agree,” said Martha. “The question is why?”


She
called me to come here. Now she’s acting cryptic.”

“Has she been lying to us the whole time?” Betty asked.

I knew we were all thinking the same thing, but were hoping for a different outcome. It wasn’t there, just Mona.

Martha checked her watch. “Did you get Mona’s mail?”

“Oh, I forgot!” I said, heading for the door.

“Wait up,” said Martha. “I’ll walk with you.”

I grabbed the key in the basket by the door.

“That girl doesn’t even have time to pick up her own mail,” griped Martha. “What does she do all day?”

“Kind of suspicious,” called Betty from the living room.

“Let’s not jump to conclusions, ladies,” said Hazel.

I turned back, countering, “We’ve got reason to.”

Once there, Martha hit her keychain light for more light.

Annoyed at Mona’s constant absence, I roughly plunged my hand into the large box. Something stuck to my upper arm in the process. “Hey, shine your light up there.”

Martha and I leaned low as she aimed the key light.

She whistled softly. “Will you look at that!”

Something was attached to the upper part of the mailbox with gray duct tape, the same color as the metal interior.

“I wonder how long that’s been there?”

“What do you suppose it is?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” I said, “but we’re about to find out.”

I stuck my arm in the mailbox and started peeling away at the gray tape. It held something folded and pressed flat.

“Hurry Sam, before someone sees what we’re doing.”

I unfolded a piece of paper. “It has an address on it.”

 

 

 

 

Chapter 41

Unfolding Some Truths

 

 

Back inside, they looked over my shoulder as I typed the address into my laptop’s search engine. A company name popped up. I clicked on it. Nobody said anything as we all gaped at the screen stunned we may have hit the jackpot.

I finally said, “…It’s a storage/warehouse facility.”

“…For large and small items,” added Martha.

“Even a house full of furniture, too,” read Hazel.

Betty added what we were thinking. “And maybe cars?”

The door slammed shut and we all turned to look.

Mona entered and stopped short. “…What?”

“Well, if it isn’t Miss MIA herself,” said Martha.

Mona’s eyes challenged. “And what does that mean?”

By this time we had walked over to her as a group.

“We need to talk Mona because we found something.”

She hesitated. “…By that look, I’m afraid to ask what?”

“We may have found the cars,” I said.

“How? Where are they?”

Betty held up her hand. “Hold on. First things first.”

“We don’t know the unit’s size yet,” I said. “We could be wrong.” I showed her the paper we found taped to the mailbox, then the website and location of the facility.

“That’s out on 441,” Mona said, becoming excited.

“Hold your horses,” said Martha. “Didn’t you read the small print on that website? You’d need a key to fit in the lockbox on the door to your storage unit.”

Mona fell to the nearest chair. “And I don’t have one.”

“I was afraid you’d say that,” I said, sitting down, too.

Mona read the note. “It’s Marco’s handwriting. He must have taped it there when potshots were taken at him.”

“He didn’t tell anyone, not even you,” noted Martha.

Mona turned to her. “I know and that hurts.”

“Maybe he left it there for someone else,” Martha said.

“Why not just tell them, then?” Betty asked.

“Good point,” said Hazel.

“So that leaves us where?” I asked.

“Back to that location, but no key to get in it.”

I caught Mona fingering a necklace charm between her fingers. “A good luck gift from Marco,” she said, smiling.

“Some good luck you’ve been having lately,” I said.

I leaned back, staring up at the ceiling, thinking.

Could it be?
I turned back to Mona and zeroed in on that charm. I jumped out of my seat, grinning.

“Well, I’ll be damned. That’s just too simple.”

Mona looked up at me. “What?”

The other three were watching me intently. They knew how my mind worked and were waiting for the unexpected.

I grabbed that key charm, yanking it and Mona forward.

“Hey, easy does it. This means a lot to me,” she said.

I turned it over and started laughing. “Number seven.”

“Marco said it was his lucky number,” she said.

I laughed again. “Now it’s yours.”

 

 

 

 

Chapter 42

Keying In On More Answers

 

 

“…Are you saying this could be the storage number?”

“That’s exactly what I’m guessing,” I said.

“Now, how did you figure that one out?” Betty asked.

“I was thinking and looking up at the ceiling, staring at those old dark keys Mona has hanging from each of her fans in the condo, admiring that offbeat decorating touch.”

Mona looked up at the keys, and then back at me.

“They were already here when I moved in. I remarked about the same thing to Marco. He said it was his idea, thinking they were great conversation pieces, like art.”

“Well,” said Betty. “He was right, wasn’t he?”

Martha suddenly looked up, eyeing those keys.

“Bingo! It’s been right in front of us the whole time, Mona. I bet the real key is up there,” she said, pointing.

Mona jumped up and gave Martha a big hug. “You’ve just moved up a few notches in my book, old lady.”

Martha merely nodded at her unexpected compliment.

“Do you have a ladder?” I asked Mona.

“I think there’s one in the garage,” she said leaving us.

Hazel looked up again. “You think it’s possible?”

I smiled. “Hey, what have we got to lose trying?”

“How about Hazel and I go and start looking in the bedrooms?” suggested Betty. “We can stand on the beds.”

Martha headed for the kitchen. “I’ll stand on a chair.”

No one realized exactly how many keys were dangling overhead until we had to actually check each and every one for a newer key shape. We met in the living room.

I shrugged. “Only one room left. Mona’s.”

Everyone turned in that direction and headed over there.

Mona and I climbed up on her bed and began fingering our way through the bunch of old keys, praying for a break. My hand paused on a particular key. I swung it up and away from the other keys for Mona to see and smiled.

“You think?” she said, now smiling herself.

“It’s brown like the others, but it looks like it’s a newer shape and was painted brown to blend in with them.”

She unhooked the chain and pulled the key loose, then reattached the chain to the fan. We both jumped to the floor as the others gathered around. She held it up to the light.

Seven was engraved on the back.

We high-fived like we had all won the lottery.

Hazel brought us back to reality. “Now what?”

“We can’t march in there without a plan,” said Betty.

Martha frowned. “They’re right. Plus there’s a guard.”

Mona sighed. “I’m screwed. I can’t make a stink about getting in there and I shouldn’t be seen with you guys.”

I said to Martha, “Get the wig replacement you bought.”

Mona threw up her hands. “You know this is trouble.”

Martha laughed. “Hey, all we’re doing is taking a look.”

Mona gave her the eye. “Just a look, huh?”

Yup, that’s about all it took to get us into trouble.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 43

If Cows Had B… They’d Be Bulls

 

 

Boundary lines were blurred when it came to how far I’d go to solve a mystery with this group. It was the thrill of the ride as far as they were concerned. Me? I was the one who got hung up about guns being pointed in my direction.

I was heading out with three risk-taking seniors and one problematic thirty-something woman, the same age as me. So far, I’d learned to adapt with this bunch. And I had no intention on pushing the limits. And because of that, I was highly attuned to the fact that none of us were immortal.

Marco sure wasn’t.

Twenty minutes later the storage facility gate came into view. Mona slowed down and pulled to the side of the road.

“You sure going in cold will work?” Mona asked me.

“Look, just drive up to the gate, like you own it.”

She shook her head. “Just. Like. That.”

I smiled, nodding. “Do you have another game plan?”

“Here goes.” Mona turned straight ahead, stepped on the gas then came to a stop by the guard at the gate.

He bent down and smiled. “And how are you, ladies?”

We all smiled back, but didn’t say a word.

“What can I help you with today?” he asked.

Mona finally spoke up. “…I’d like to get into my unit.”

“And which one is that?” he asked, still smiling.

“…Number seven,” she said, gripping the wheel.

Before stepping to his computer, he said, “ID, please?”

Mona took a deep breath and silently handed him hers.

All eyes were glued on the guard, who checked it out.

He looked at his computer, smiled then frowned. He stepped back to Mona, looked at her license once more, then at her and frowned again. “It’s in your name, but…”

Initially relieved, she became nervous. “…But what?”

“It’s so bright red. You look so…different.”

“That’s the last straw! I’m suing my salon.”

He shook his head, looking at her hair. “I would too.”

Mona finger-tapped the steering wheel, silently waiting.

“I still don’t know about this,” he said shaking his head.

Mona looked at me, then the others, and then turned to the guard. “Oh, what the hell. So I get spotted,” she mumbled, tearing off the wig and sunglasses. “Satisfied?”

He hit a remote. “Welcome to 441 Storage, ladies.”

Everyone gave a collective sigh as he handed back her ID and Mona drove through. When she remained silent, not cheering like the rest of us, we looked over to see why.

Teary-eyed, she whispered, “Marco put it in my name.”

That trust factor meant a lot. “I’m not surprised,” I said.

Betty patted her on the shoulder. “How sweet.”

“What a perfect gesture of trust,” added Hazel.

Martha laughed. “Hope we don’t find any dead bodies.”

Hazel glared. “You have a way of killing the moment.”

“As long as that’s the only thing killed, I’m good to go.”

And the sooner we solved this I was too.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 44

And Behind This Door?

 

 

Mona pulled out the key. Unit seven was cinderblock, like all the others in the complex and surrounded by barbed wire, chain-link fencing. The facility covered several acres.

“This unit is big enough, isn’t it?” she asked.

I eyed the sliding door. “A car would fit through, too.”

“It’s pretty sizable, alright,” said Betty.

“You think he paid in advance?” Hazel asked.

“Odds are, being a target, he did,” said Martha.

Mona shoved back the large door, flicking on the lights.

Martha whistled loudly, stepping in. “Holy mackerel!”

“It’s air conditioned,” said Betty, as she hastily shut the door once we all were inside the space.

Hazel ran over to one vehicle. “It’s a vintage Bugatti!”

“And look at that old Mercedes,” said Betty, leaving us.

“How about that antique roadster?” Martha said.

Mona and I wandered around in awe, admiring the beauty of the collection, including four classic Rolls.

BOOK: Mouth of the Rat (A Samantha Jamison Mystery)
4.46Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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