Birthdays Can Be Deadly (5 page)

“What could be wrong with that is that we are invading the life and privacy of a man who just lost his father,” Eddy pointed out. “I don't think we should stop, but I do think that we need to be delicate about it.”

“Delicate,” Walt nodded. “Don't worry, he'll never even know that I was looking into him. As far as I'm concerned money always tells the truth. If you find the money trail, you will find the reality of a situation. But I understand what you're saying about his grief. It might set him off if he knew that we were considering him a suspect. It's a horrible thing to think that a son could kill his own father.”

“It's been done before,” Eddy said quietly. The things he had seen in his time as a detective were written across his face in the form of a haunted expression. “Far too many times.”

“Well, since we don't have any other leads, I think that Mike is as good as any place to start,” Samantha said. “So, Walt look into Mike's finances, and James' if you can. Eddy, maybe you could ask the staff if they had seen any arguments between Mike and James.”

“Aren't you just skilled at delegation?” he asked as he smiled at Samantha.

“I'm just trying to keep things organized,” Samantha replied defensively.

“I wasn't complaining,” Eddy adjusted his hat. Then he turned and walked off towards the recreation hall.

“You okay?” Walt asked Samantha who was staring off after Eddy.

“I think so,” Samantha frowned. “I'll be better when we find out who did this to James.”

Samantha returned to her villa to change. She had to be dressed a certain way to have a conversation with anyone on the party committee. As she was sorting through the choices hanging in her closet, her mind drifted back over the last time she had chosen so carefully what she would wear. It was for her retirement party from the last magazine she had worked for. It was a special night, and though she was looking forward to her retirement, it had been bittersweet as well. Sometimes she missed the bustle of the magazine office. She always had one or two friends at work that she could bounce her ideas or articles off to get their opinion. She found it difficult now to make friends at Sage Gardens. Since Baki had left Eddy and Walt were the closest friends she had, and that was fairly sad considering that they barely ever spent time together.

She chose a blouse and skirt and changed into them. As she was putting away her laundry, she came across a pile of folders in the bottom of her closet. She had kept the information from a few of the cases she had written articles about. Some of them she kept because they were yet unsolved, others she kept because they had such an impact on her. When she saw which folder was on top her heart lurched. All at once she knew exactly why Jo seemed so familiar to her. Samantha didn't believe it at first. She snatched up the folder and walked over to her bed. She sat down on the edge of it and flipped the folder open. Inside were several handwritten pages of her own notes, as well as the printed research that she had done on the case.

It was the case of an infamous cat burglar who managed to steal from some of the wealthiest and most well-known names before she was caught. Samantha had followed her for years before she turned herself in. That was the part that had stuck in Samantha's mind to make the case unique. Joanne could have gotten away with everything, the police had no clue who she was, but she voluntarily turned herself in and confessed to the crimes.

On one of the printed pages was a photograph of Joanne on the day she turned herself in. Samantha stared down at her voluminous, black hair, her haunted, dark eyes, and the sneer on her lips. She was sure that the Joanne in the picture was the same woman that she knew as Jo at Sage Gardens. But that had to be impossible. Joanne should have still been in prison. With a trembling hand Samantha dialed the phone number of a contact she still had in the prison system. She asked about Joanne's current status.

“She was released about three months ago,” he explained. “She qualified for early release because of good behavior.”

“Any idea where she is now?” Samantha asked nervously.

“Sorry, that information I can't access,” he replied. “Is everything okay?”

“Oh sure,” Samantha forced a smile into her voice. “I was just doing a follow up article on her and the crimes she committed.”

“I thought you were retired?” he asked.

“Does a writer ever really retire?” she countered with a short laugh.

“I guess not,” he replied. Samantha exchanged a few more pleasantries with him before hanging up the phone. She stared down at the picture in complete shock. She was sure that she must be imagining things. Just because Joanne had been released, that didn't mean that she would be at Sage Gardens. What were the chances of that happening? She put the folders away in the closet, determined to put the idea out of her mind. But the moment she stepped out of her villa she caught sight of Jo walking towards the mailboxes in the main square. Samantha couldn't resist. She had to know for sure.

Samantha did her best to match her footsteps to Jo's as she approached the mailboxes. She didn't want to alert the woman to the fact that she was being followed. Samantha had to be sure that she was right. Jo walked up to the mailboxes. She reached into the pocket of her tight jeans and pulled out a small key. She pushed the key into one of the metal boxes and turned it. Samantha watched Jo pull out a few envelopes. Then she locked the box again. She pushed the key into her pocket. She took a deep breath. An instant later she was directly in front of Samantha as if she had been there the entire time.

“Why are you following me?” she asked through gritted teeth. She glared into Samantha's eyes. Samantha's breath caught in her throat. She had written many things about crime in the past, articles in particular about Jo, but she had never been face to face with a proven criminal.

“I wasn't,” Samantha said quickly. “I was just going to get my mail.”

“Oh?” Jo asked and then raised an eyebrow. “Where is your key?”

“Huh?” Samantha mumbled.

“Your key, if you're going to get the mail, then you should have your key,” Jo insisted and took a slight step back. “So, show me your key.”

Samantha's mouth felt dry. She wasn't sure if she could even speak. She was looking into the eyes of a woman she had written articles about for several years when she was younger. This wasn't just another person who was encroaching on her personal space, Joanne was a legend.

“I must have forgotten it,” Samantha managed to stumble out. “I thought I had it, and now I don't.”

“Sure,” Jo nodded and folded her arms across her stomach. “Why were you following me?” she demanded.

“I just thought you looked familiar,” Samantha admitted. “You look like someone I used to know.”

“I highly doubt that you ever knew me,” Jo countered and glowered at her. “So, how could I be familiar to you?”

Samantha knew that she was running out of excuses. She hadn't planned on actually confronting Jo. She was just going to follow her and see if she could confirm if she was who she thought she was. Suddenly, Samantha thought about the stolen watch. Could Jo have been the one to steal it? Would a cat burglar stoop so low?

“My mistake,” Samantha said nervously and started to back away from her. “I'm sorry to have bothered you really, I won't bother you again.”

Jo continued to stare directly at her. Her eyes narrowed even tighter, so that they were tiny slits of judgment.

“So, you're not going to be writing anything about me?” she asked.

Samantha suddenly felt ice-cold. She knew that she was staring with wide eyes at Jo for far too long. Jo obviously knew exactly who Samantha was and she had no idea how to respond to that question.

“I'm retired,” she finally said, her voice wavering.

“So am I,” Jo replied sternly. “So, why don't we both just continue with our retirement? Sound good?”

“I think so,” Samantha replied hesitantly.

“Listen, I don't know why you're following me around. I don't really care to. But please make sure you don’t snoop around me again,” she said with ice-cold eyes. “Understand?”

Samantha started to nod in agreement and with gratitude, then something inside of her shifted. This was Joanne, she had no doubt. This was the very cat burglar that she had written so many scathing pieces about. This was the woman who might have gone into a dead man's villa and taken his very valuable watch. Why should she back down from her? Samantha could call the FBI and have them on Jo's back immediately. If she was found guilty, as a repeat offender, she might never be free again. 

“Are you threatening me?” Samantha heard herself ask with more bravery than she expected to wield.

“Should I be?” Jo asked and quirked a brow. “Why don't you just tell me what you're getting at?” Jo demanded as she let her hands fall back to her sides. “If we're not pretending that we don’t have a clue who each other is anymore, then just be straight with me. I know that you have been watching me for a while. So, why are you after me now? There's no bounty on my head. I did my time.”

“James' very expensive watch is missing,” Samantha blurted out before she could stop herself. “The man who died yesterday.”

“And?” Jo asked with confusion. “What does a dead man's watch have to do with me?”

“Uh well,” Samantha cleared her throat and glanced around nervously before looking back at Jo. “It's a very valuable watch.”

“You can't be serious,” Jo shook her head with disbelief. “Are you really accusing me of petty theft? From a corpse?”

“Don't talk about James that way,” Samantha snapped back sharply. “He was a good man.”

“I'm sure you knew him well,” Jo said smugly.

“What do you mean by that?” Samantha asked defensively.

“Well let's see, you're following me around because you think I stole his watch, so I assumed that you two must have had more than a casual relationship,” Jo explained slowly as if Samantha would have a difficult time comprehending what she was saying.

“We were just acquaintances,” Samantha corrected and then pursed her lips. “I just hate to see any kind of crime invade the safety of Sage Gardens.”

“Oh please, I know that you're not that naïve,” Jo shook her head. “Listen, I didn't swipe the dead man's watch. I don't really care who did. I would appreciate not being stalked when I'm picking up my mail.”

With that she turned on her heel and walked away from Samantha with sharp swings of her hips. Samantha shook her head and finally drew a full breath. She wasn't quite sure what to think about their encounter. Perhaps the most shocking revelation was that Jo knew exactly who she was.

Samantha felt confident that Jo was telling her the truth. Now that she could think about it calmly she didn't really think that a retired thief of her caliber would stoop so low as to steal a watch. Joanne had been responsible for one of the most infamous art heists. Just when she expected Joanne to disappear around the corner, the woman suddenly stopped. She took a deep breath and then turned around. She walked back towards Samantha. Samantha felt nervous as she watched the woman approach her. She considered running but the opportunity to do so quickly passed as Joanne crossed the distance. She was still frozen in place when Joanne stopped in front of her.

“Look, the truth is, I'm trying to start a new life,” Jo explained. “The last thing I want to do is get involved in all of this, but if you want my help finding out who stole the watch, I can do that in order to prove that it wasn’t me.”

“How?” Samantha asked and avoided looking directly at her.

“I still have some connections,” Jo explained. “If someone stole that watch, I know exactly who they would sell it to.”

“And you would be willing to tell me?” Samantha asked with genuine surprise. Jo stared at her for a long moment.

“Don't think that just because you wrote all of those articles about me, you know anything about me,” Jo replied sternly. “I am willing to help you, in exchange for you keeping my secret. I really don't want to become the resident felon.”

“Even if you are?” Samantha asked before thinking about whether it was a good idea.

Jo pursed her lips impatiently. “The past is in the past, Samantha. So, do we have a deal?” she asked and extended her hand towards her. Samantha's heartbeat quickened. She could not believe that she was about to shake the hand of such a notorious woman. She took Jo's hand in a firm handshake, but she couldn't quite meet her eyes.

“We have a deal,” she said.

“I'll contact you when I have a name,” Jo replied. Then she walked off casually. Samantha's heart was still racing with the impact of the encounter. She forgot all about talking to the party committee until Carolyn Taylor walked up behind her with a laugh.

“Well, aren't you dressed up, Samantha,” she said, though Samantha wasn't sure if it was an insult or a compliment.

“Carolyn, I was hoping to run into you,” Samantha said and swallowed thickly. She tried to force her mind away from Jo.

“Well, you have,” Carolyn said cheerfully, then her smile faded. “If this is about joining I just don't think that you're the right fit.”

Samantha willed herself not to glare at the woman. “No, it's not about joining. I was wondering if you or any of your friends noticed anything unusual while you were setting up for the party.”

“I'm not sure what you mean,” Carolyn admitted.

“I mean, did you notice anyone acting strangely. Maybe someone came in early that didn't need to be there? Someone that wasn’t part of organizing the party?” Samantha suggested as she studied her intently.

“No, no one,” Carolyn said thoughtfully. “Well, we did invite Frank over to help us with the set up,” she explained.

“Frank? Why?” Samantha asked with shock. “He just moved in, and you let him join?”

“He's single,” Carolyn replied dismissively. Samantha couldn’t hide her surprise.

“So, Frank was there with you while you were setting up?”

“Well, no,” she said. “He seemed eager to help at first and then after a few minutes he said he forgot he had something to do and he just left.”

“Was there anyone else?” Samantha asked.

“No, that was it,” Carolyn shook her head. “Mike dropped off the food shortly after.”

“Mike dropped off the food?” Samantha repeated.

“Yes,” Carolyn replied. “He organized the catering for the party which was really nice of him. We usually have to organize it but because of his father’s specific dietary needs he offered to do it so that there was enough choice for Frank to eat.”

“Anything else you can remember,” Samantha asked thoughtfully.

“No, that’s it,” Carolyn shook her head.