The Lush Life (Samantha Jamison Mystery Book 8) (4 page)

Chapter 8

That Other Morning After Pill: Aspirin

I heard music coming from the kitchen at the other end of the house and grabbed the coffee I was drinking to go find who was up and about. I was dying to talk to Martha to see if she had found out anything worthwhile about Teddy.

Because before I entered Alicia’s office that morning, I made a quick detour down to the lower level to check out the poolroom for clues as to what went on the night before.

What I found left me with a wide range of interpretation on Martha’s imagination. I righted one stool, replaced the pillow back on it, then surveyed for more potential damage: not to the poolroom itself, but to what happened to her unsuspecting, prime target, Teddy.

Two empty bottles I had previously mentioned were scattered across the table, pool cues and balls were strewn everywhere, and chalk smudged the pool table’s felt top.

Were they drawing chalk pictures?

Just before leaving, something caught my eye. A stiletto was dangling from the elegant Tiffany light over the pool table. I knew Martha was creative, but I had a feeling she went above and beyond the call of duty on this one. I gave up on any further speculation and left, laughing out loud, heading upstairs to Alicia’s office to try to compose a few possible notes about this. The actual details I’d get later.

Still laughing over the potential symbolism of what I had seen, I entered the kitchen, but then stopped in surprise. Martha was alert, whistling and cooking up an omelet smothered in fresh veggies. My mouth watered not only from the wonderful aroma, but the juicy story that I knew awaited me. I guess her aspirin had already kicked in.

I sidled up close and handed her the salt and pepper.

“Well, am I going to hear what happened or what?”

“Depends,” she said, trying to hide a smirk.

“On what?” I asked innocently then laughed myself.

“Whether you’re prepared to keep an open mind...”

“An open mind, huh? I’m dying here.”

“What I tell you doesn’t go beyond this room,” she said.

“You mean don’t tell the others?”

“Exactly.”

What was up?
“Meaning?”

“I have a well-crafted reputation to protect, that’s why.”

“What does this have to do with your reputation?”

Martha stared at me, remaining silent.

I finally nodded in agreement. “Okay, agreed. Spill.”

She lowered the heat on the omelet and turned to me.

I crossed my arms and waited.

“Coffee?” she asked casually.

I knew she was looking for time to gather her thoughts.

“Sure.”

“The usual: light cream and sugar?”

I also knew that after all these years, she knew exactly how I drank my coffee, but I played along anyway. “Sure.”

“As usual, exactly what occurred downstairs and what didn’t occur was intentionally left for pure conjecture,” she said offhandedly, while not exactly meeting my eye.

Chapter 9

Conjecture And More

I stood there for a moment then broke up laughing.

Martha remained deadpan, but then threw up her arms.

“What?” I asked, trying my best to remain open-minded.

“I have a reputation to preserve: a priceless asset.”

“You’re leaving the incident wide open to assumptions.”

Martha finally grinned then nodded. “And that, my dear friend, is what keeps my reputation intact: speculation.”

“So, are you going to tell me what happened or what?”

“I got Teddy more plastered than a drywall professional. Before passing out, he bragged he was an actor/model, hired to pretend he’s an art collector and latch onto Mona.”

“Why her? Why here?”

“After realizing his slip-up, he said it was harmless and he needed money. I’m not sure if you noticed, but some plants downstairs might look slightly wilted this morning.”

“And that’s because...”

“I dumped my drinks in them, while I got Teddy drunk.”

“Just so you know, all those plants are artificial,” I said.

“Good. Then it all worked out in setting that stage.”

“Setting the stage? For what?”

After Teddy passed out, I tossed bottles, smudged the table and hung my stiletto from the light.”

I felt like I should be taking notes.
“Then what?”

“When I revived him, he asked how he ended up on the floor, so I showed him compromising
iPhone
pics
I took. I mentioned the Internet and You Tube. We’d both be rich...”

I broke up. “Get anything further on him then?”

“He cried like a baby. If my
pics
went public, he’d be violating the moral clause of his ad contracts and lose them, plus the bonus he was promised to not screw up
this
job.”

“So this was just an off-the-record freelance side job?”

“Like you constantly say, it’s always about the money.”

“Anything else? Did he tell you who’s paying him?”

Martha frowned. “No! He suddenly clammed up and staggered upstairs. How did it go with Mona?”

“Mona, instructed via email by Clay to romance Teddy and bring him here, assumed it was an assignment.”

“Clay emailed her to do that?”

“That’s the rub. He didn’t. That email had Clay’s name at the bottom, but the email address was one letter off. She never caught it, just played along as she was told and showed up here, waiting further instructions, thinking I already knew about this. She is just as mystified as I am.”

Martha shook her head. “Someone is setting you up.”

“Normally I’d roll with this, but this isn’t my house.”

“Think it’s about the
Worths
’ art collection?”

I nodded. “I keep leaning in that direction.”

“But why go to all the trouble of hiring an actor?”

“...Who doesn’t know or care about art or Mona?”

“Feels like Mona and Teddy were set up at both ends.”

This was proving to be a challenge and a real mystery.

Chapter 10

Escalating Cause & Effect

Dictionary definition of escalate: to become or cause to become more intense or serious.

Very apropos.

I gingerly picked up the delivered package to my ear.

“Good! No ticking.”

Then I turned it around to observe and feel the heft of it.

“Doesn’t look like the seal’s been broken.”

I heard an obvious loud sigh and turned to who made it.

“What?” I asked an impatient Martha.

“Okay, it’s passed the bomb squad test and the visual, now just open it!” she said, now bordering on losing it.

“She’s just being prudent,” said Betty, defending me.

“Someone might want to snuff her out,” warned Hazel.

“With a UPS box that’s probably been tossed, shoved and kicked from here to kingdom come? Not to mention all those right turns they make for mileage to save time!”

I stared at the ever-wildly-imaginative, wordy Martha.

“One can’t be too careful. Besides, isn’t it odd someone mailed me an unexpected package at the
Worths
’ address?”

I looked down at the blank return address label again.

Martha handed me a knife. “I’m aging here. Get to it.”

I took the hint and began slicing the tape, while all eyes remained on the small package in question. I had already ruled out Clay. He wasn’t exactly a package kind-of-guy. Flowers maybe, unexpected arrivals, but not mysterious packages. I was about to open it when...

“I read this one story where a finger was mailed...”

My own stilled at Martha’s words.

“Now, why in the world would someone do that?” asked a horrified Betty.

“It was easier than mailing a nose.”

Hazel paled, protectively clutching hers. “...A nose?”

“This detective kept sticking his nose in where it didn’t belong. They were sending a message.”

The three of us just stared, gaping at Martha.

“You’re joking, right?” Betty finally said.

“Just a little levity while I’m aging and waiting here.”

I shook the box one more time. Whatever it was, it was well-padded. “Here goes,” I said, lifting up the flaps.

Tissue paper, lots of it.

I slowly unraveled it to expose the contents inside.

Ear-piercing shrieks abruptly broke the eerie silence. We were all staring at a finger at the bottom of the box. In seconds, Mona rushed in, Teddy following on her heels.

“What was that all about?” she asked breathlessly.

No one could speak at first, only point down to the box.

Mona leaned in, as did Teddy right behind her. She gasped, “Holy Jesus!” and jerked her head back sharply at the horrible sight at the bottom of the box.

Unfortunately, Teddy was in the direct path of her head. We heard a distinct crunch: his nose. Teddy’s hands flew to cover his face as he yelled, “My
noth
! My
noth
!”

The package and its contents momentarily ignored, we all focused on the screaming and now bloody Teddy.

“Oh, dear!” said Betty running for paper towels.

“Keep your head back,” instructed Hazel, as she guided him to the nearest chair to sit down.

“Don’t worry. Maybe they’ll focus on your body instead for your ads. Makeup does wonders too,” advised Martha.

There was a muffled, but distinct, “
Bathdarrd
!” in there to that one, as Teddy kept rocking and howling in pain.

Hazel
tsked
. “He was such a good-looking man too.”

“Why so much blood?” I asked alarmed.

Mona leaned down for a better view amongst all those paper towels. “Ah, a bad split lip too.”

With that, there was a renewed wailing from Teddy. I wasn’t positive, but it sounded like he was saying his career was over, all because of us.

We were
fyfff
nuthh
caathess
!

Then came more prolific and unintelligible swearing...

Then an emotional
sonnn
offa
bithh
!

Though more garbled swearing spewed forth, we pretty much got the essence of what Teddy was conveying: his displeasure at being exposed to a house full of...

Well, you got the idea.

Even if he had read them all...

I doubted there was an idiot’s guide that covered this.