The Lush Life (Samantha Jamison Mystery Book 8) (3 page)

BOOK: The Lush Life (Samantha Jamison Mystery Book 8)
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Chapter 5

 

Fact From Fiction

 

Our eyes traveled back and forth across the beautifully-set, flower-laden, and candlelit table, as Mona glossed over how Teddy and she met: an online dating site. Mona recited in a less-than-wordy explanation how she input her dream-date material. I gave Teddy the once-over. Her description of him had fit perfectly, which I found highly dubious. Mr. too-good-to-be-true Teddy and the ever-shrewd and savvy Mona were an unlikely pair: a beyond-believable match.

“Teddy, what caught your interest in Mona?” I probed.

“I wrote online I was an avid art enthusiast, and to my surprise, Mona replied she was just as passionate about art, and so was her sister, who had an impressive art collection. And here I thought witty Mona was just another pretty face, but after discovering our mutual interest, my world tilted.”

‘My world tilted?’
What idiot’s date guide did he read?


Aww
, Teddy,” said Mona, blushing.

Oh, please...

Martha had to look away for fear of cracking up.

My BS meter was off the scale. He was Mona’s match alright: both experts in the con market. Was that her reason for latching onto him? Okay, I admit his good looks could stop traffic. But other than that, what was this really about?

With Mona, trust me, something was always going on in the background. I was still lost in my musings of the, ‘how-they-got-together angle’ when Teddy turned my way and kept glancing back and forth between Mona and me.

“I’m having a hard time seeing any kind of resemblance between you and your twin sister, Mona.”

“Sam and I are fraternal twins, that’s why,” said Mona.

I swear, I almost spit out my wine.
Fraternal...twins?

Mona quickly added, “Hard to believe, huh?”

Martha jerked Mona’s way. “Takes a leap of faith...”

Hazel coughed into her napkin to mask her laugh.

Betty took a gulp of her wine, not daring to speak.

Then I realized I hadn’t let my crew in on the lie Mona had spun about us being related and turned to explain.

“...Uh, you remember me saying how different we were, being sisters
and
fraternal twins, too, don’t you?” I said, subtly winking, trying not to blow Mona’s mounting lies and still trying to figure out what she had up her sleeve.

Snarky Martha eyed Mona’s full figure. “Must have been a tight fit for your Momma. I feel her pain.”

Mona glared at Martha. “You’re such a jokester.”

“True,” said Martha. “That’s what keeps me going.”

“What? You’re imagination or your sense of humor?”

“Where you’re concerned, both!” she said, grinning.

Teddy checked his image on a silver bowl on the table.

“Overreacting is unhealthy, Mona. It causes wrinkles.”

Martha laughed. “Ah, Teddy offers intriguing advice.”

Smoothing down his hair, he turned back to Martha.

“...Yeah, I’m just full of intrigue.”

Silence.
Obviously, his focus was elsewhere: on himself.

“He sure is full of something,” whispered Martha.

“Are you familiar with my mystery series, Teddy?”

“I guess unraveling clues can be interesting.”

“Especially when someone slips up and gets their due.”

Perspiration appeared on Teddy’s upper lip. He broke eye contact and glanced toward Mona then the clock.

Now, Teddy, why so nervous?

Mona and Teddy were two peas in a pod: deceivers. But Mona pretty much fought for the good side. So that left me thinking Teddy was on the opposite side of that spectrum.

What was the big push to stay here?

Then the obvious hit me: the
Worths
’ vast art collection. They trusted me to protect their property and possessions. Why’d Mona expose it to this con? Had Teddy latched onto Mona because of this art? Were they conning each other?

I’d been watching Teddy’s every move since he came down from their apartment for dinner. He hadn’t glanced at anything else but mirrors and the art. Mona had to notice.

This whole thing felt like a set-up: a bad one.

Martha’s eyes caught mine then caught Teddy’s, asking him, “How about a drink and a game of pool downstairs?”

Teddy jumped at the invitation to leave the table. “Yes!”

He was most likely glad to get away from more scrutiny. Besides, a bunch of women and one man makes men kind of edgy. Just ask Clay. It happened frequently.

Mona jumped up too. “That sounds like a good idea...”

I stopped her, brooking no excuses. “No,” I whispered.

Then I nodded as Martha wearing her stilettos gave me a wink and a thumbs up as she followed Teddy. I turned on some music, hoping it would muffle both upstairs and downstairs
.

Martha was taking one for the home team.

 

 

Chapter 6

 

Now What?

 

After stopping Mona, I murmured, “Not so fast.”

Betty and Hazel discreetly excused themselves, knowing an interrogation was forthcoming and it might get ugly.

I was not about to relive letting Mona off easy this time.

“I demand some answers, right now,” I hissed.

“Would I be here if this wasn’t important? Have I ever left you in a lurch before?”

I stood there staring then broke out laughing.

“Okay, let me restate that somewhat. It always ends up working out in the end, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, I have to admit it does. But this time, I’d rather it be sooner than later before something disastrous happens.”

“Why would you assume that?”

“When
you’re
involved in something, it’s a guarantee.”

“Okay, so I may have dropped the ball a time or two...”

I kept staring at her, saying nothing.

“...And possibly three or four times.”

“Now we’re progressing. And this time around?”

Mona sighed. “I was sent a detailed email explaining all about your art fraud episode in New Hope.”

“Who sent it?”

“Why, Clay, of course!”

“Good. More progress. So far I’m following. And...?”

“Then I received a follow-up email with instructions to befriend Teddy online, specifics outlined: art interests, etc.”

“Clay said to latch onto him and bring him here?”

Mona frowned. “I thought Clay cleared all this with you ahead of time and assumed it was another investigation you guys needed me in on. After your confusion at greeting me at the front door wondering why I was here, I figured you were just busting my chops. But you weren’t, were you?”

“No!” I sat down at the kitchen table. I had to think. I knew Clay has dropped the ball now and then, but at the risk of his friends’ property? “Are you sure that second email was from Clay?”

Mona sat down too. “Look, I was too busy to verify this job with you personally. Plus, it came shortly after the first email. Clay’s name was at the bottom, so I just assumed... After seeing your reaction, I’m thinking it wasn’t legit.”

“Do you have your laptop for us to recheck that email?”

Mona was back in minutes, booted up her laptop and scrolled to the email in question. We both leaned in to scrutinize the sender. It said Clay, but the return email was slightly different from his by one single letter. Being rushed, I could understand why she overlooked that minor variance. Mona was instructed to romance and set up Teddy to come here for a sting, but it never mentioned what the sting was. She was to get double her usual fee.

“Even I don’t get
that.
No wonder you jumped.”

Mona’s lips thinned in anger. “Now I feel like an idiot.”

“Too late. The question is, who set us up? And why?”

 

Chapter 7

 

Flying Blind

 

My definition of flying blind: Doing something tricky without the basic faculties for doing it, which could lead to disaster. It was something I never felt comfortable with, hated and should be accustomed to by now, but wasn’t. I didn’t know which way to turn. Here I was sitting on something, waiting for it to happen, but wasn’t privy as to what it was, which, obviously, now included Mona.

Mona was sucked into this and should have known better. She was a professional: previously associated with the FBI and other nefarious
(that word alone should speak volumes)
organizations, of which she would never reveal to me. I can only imagine who they were. She was tight-lipped to a fault, just like Clay when he was working on the job.

Trust me, both of them are a constant challenge.

I was typing at my laptop while sipping a fresh cup of coffee the next morning, working in Alicia’s posh home office. Since Alicia sold her gallery in New Hope, she had picked up her loft office there and settled it into her own home. Since that space was pretty much the same size, she set it up exactly the same way.

I’d gotten used to working on her antique desk. It was solid cherry and oval shaped all the way around from top to bottom with intricate wood veneers, marble strips, and gold ornamentation. The top of the desk was inlayed with dark green leather, ringed with an edge of gold stenciling.

Her camel-backed striped fabric sofa was a coral and pale green. A black-lacquer painted wooden chair with cane backing and matching seat cushion complimented it. A leather suitcase coffee table tied the grouping together.

Next to the desk was the now familiar deeper green and navy fabric-covered wing chair, the same shade as the leather on the desk. Right behind me she placed her old four-shelf cherry weathered bookcase filled with the same antique books she loved to collect. As I had stated once before while working in her loft at her gallery, if I had a wish-list dream space to work in, this was it.

I emailed Clay earlier, left messages on his cell: nothing, then tried investigating this Teddy of Mona’s. My online search was a no-go: it dead-ended on effort, likely
an
alias.

I began chuckling, recalling the sight of Teddy walking into the kitchen two hours later after he had left with Martha the previous evening. He was beyond drunk. I knew right then and there, Martha had grabbed liquor from the butler’s pantry on their way down to the poolroom on the lower level. Scotch? Brandy?

All he said was, “Talk about an ace pool player. She’s a real pro, that Martha, and in more ways than one!” Then he fell over like a dead tree onto the stone floor in front of us.

Mona and I just stared at each other then looked down at all that muscle, at least two hundred pound’s worth, which was now heavy, dead weight. Martha was nowhere in sight, probably tucked snugly in her bed and wearing a smile.

“I’ll get a pillow from the couch,” said Mona.

“I’ll get a throw to cover him,” I replied.

We left Teddy there, knowing he’d figure it out when he finally came to. I left a nightlight on and Mona pinned a large note to his shirt to remind him where he was with instructions on how to get back to their apartment. Then we both went up to our own beds to think over what to do next.

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