“Yeah,” Willie agreed, his mouth half full. “Sybil would never let me do this at home.”
A tired laugh escaped my lips. Willie, a wealthy fugitive who carried a gun and knew his way around the criminal underground, and who had masterminded a major financial scam, wasn’t allowed to eat meatloaf from a plastic container at home. My laugh dissolved into a private smile when I thought about all the times Greg and I had done things like this together. Many a night we clinked forks over Tupperware while seated on the sofa watching a late-night movie. But I did draw the line when it came to drinking directly from milk cartons or juice containers.
Taking my fork, I dug into the lump of meat covered in thick, savory gravy with large chunks of mushrooms and broke off a piece. I shoved it into my mouth. It was warm but not hot. “Mmmmm,” I moaned, “that is so good.” I took another bite, realizing I was pretty hungry too. The three of us decimated Mom’s leftovers while I brought them up to speed on what I had learned from Teri Thomson.
“Well, that hit the spot,” Willie said after putting down his fork and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
I tore off a few sheets of paper towels from a dispenser fastened under a cabinet and handed them around. There had to be some civility in the world. “See,” I pointed out, “if I hadn’t been with you, you wouldn’t have learned all that. Terri never would have talked to either of you.”
“So,” Buzz said after wiping his mouth with his paper towel, “Mona could have a motive for killing the Fox woman, and her uncle could be covering for her.”
I nodded. “And Fox was beaten, a very personal type of attack.” I unwrapped some banana bread that had been sitting near the sink, surprised the guys had missed it in their foraging. “Have some dessert.” I placed it on the counter in front of them and they pounced on it like the meatloaf had never happened.
“True,” Willie said, “but Teri said she never saw Mona that night.” He looked at me with sadness. “It’s not looking good for your friend Art. Teri saw him packing up to leave in the middle of the night and he’s not been in touch with anyone since. Either he’s one cool cucumber and killed Fox, taking off a day later once he realized Grace and Lorraine might discover the crime, or he saw something that scared him to death and took off before he wound up like Fox.”
I pinched off a bite of banana bread and popped it into my mouth. It was part of the batch without nuts—the one Mom had made for Art. “I can’t see Art killing anyone,” I said after I swallowed, “let alone sitting on my mother’s patio sipping iced tea less than twelve hours later if he did do it. It’s more likely your second theory.”
I pulled a pitcher of iced tea out of Mom’s fridge and held it up to the men. They both nodded that they wanted some. I got three glasses out of the cupboard and was in the middle of pouring when we heard a car pull up. We all froze. Soon someone was at the front door. Buzz and Willie made a dash for the hall, out of sight. I wanted to go with them but knew I should stand my ground. Maybe it was Mona letting herself in with a passkey. If so, we needed to have a showdown about a few things. If it was Art letting himself in with his key, then I needed to sit him down and find out what was going on.
It was neither.
When the front door opened, I sucked in my breath and held it. A few seconds later my mother sauntered in from the entry hall, her switchblade at the ready, Lorraine behind her.
“What in the world are you two doing here?” I asked as my breath gushed out of me in relief.
“I live here,” Mom snapped, making no effort to put away the knife. “What are you doing here?”
Willie and Buzz came out from the back. I glanced at them, then said, “We were following up on Art. I left you and Lorraine a note saying that I would be out for little bit.”
“Yeah,” Mom said, coming close to where I stood. “I got up to pee and saw the note, then couldn’t get back to sleep, so I decided to do a little investigating of my own. Lorraine woke up and insisted on coming with me.” She looked at Buzz. “Who’s this kid?”
“This is Buzz, a colleague of mine, Grace,” Willie explained. Willie turned to Buzz. “This is Grace Littlejohn, Odelia’s mother. And that’s Lorraine Littlejohn, Clark’s daughter.”
“I’m sure you’ve heard a lot about my mother, too,” I said to Buzz.
In response, he nodded and a wide grin split his face ear-to-ear as he looked at the two of them. “Yes.” He turned a 100-watt smile on Lorraine. “But very little about you.” Lorraine blushed and looked down at the floor.
Mom stepped in front of Lorraine. “Maybe that’s because she has a fiancé in Chicago.”
Lorraine’s head snapped up. “Not anymore, Grandma,” she announced with crisp finality before returning Buzz’s smile.
Mom and Buzz took each other’s measure, Buzz especially eyeing the knife. “That’s quite a knife you’ve got there, abuela,” he said to her.
“Thanks,” Mom said. She closed the knife and slipped it back into her bag like a squirrel hiding nuts from a competitor. “But I’m not your grandmother, kid.”
Buzz smiled again while Willie watched with amusement. Buzz wasn’t as classically good looking as his cousin Enrique, but his smile revealed a mischievous charm, one that probably worked on women of all ages, even a hard nut like my mother. “I only meant it as a term of respect, Mrs. Littlejohn.” He gave Mom a slight bow, and I saw her icy edges begin to thaw. Lorraine was already a puddle of romantic goo.
“How did you get here, Mom?” I asked.
Mom put her purse down on the counter. “Seems someone took my car keys.” Her eyes shifted between all three of us, washing us equally with charges of the crime. “So I took an Uber.”
I looked over at Willie and Buzz, giving them my own wide grin, one of satisfaction.
“But we have your house keys too,” Willie noted.
“Not all of them,” Mom snapped. “Old people tend to believe in spares. Lots of spares.”
I thought about Milt at the front gate and his connection with Mona. “Did Milt see you come in,” I asked, “or was he asleep at the wheel?”
“He wasn’t there,” Mom reported. “At least not that I could see when I punched in my code. He might have been in the bathroom. Probably sleeping there.” Her voice held traces of disgust.
Teri had said that she’d seen Milt making rounds, which didn’t jive with Kevin’s report. Maybe he did take walks to stay awake. Maybe he wasn’t as lazy as people thought. Then I wondered if he’d been on the prowl while I was talking to Teri and spotted us. If he did, he would no doubt squeal to Mona. But for now, I shoved that out of my mind.
Mom came into the kitchen and eyed the empty meatloaf dish and unwrapped banana bread. “I hope you don’t mind, Grace,” Willie said, “but we got hungry. The meatloaf was delicious.”
Mom waved a hand in the air, dismissing the thought of any intrusion. “Not one of my best efforts, but I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
She went into the living area and took a seat in her favorite chair, an upholstered rocker aimed at the flat panel TV affixed to one wall. Neither her chair nor her TV were anywhere near the size of Art’s, but they served the same purpose, although the way Mom sat you’d think it was a throne and she was giving a middle-of-the-night audience. Lorraine seemed unsure of where to stand, so I motioned her over to me and the two of us poured iced tea and handed the glasses around. Only Mom waved off the offer. When Lorraine handed a glass to Buzz, I saw their eyes lock and the exchange of shy smiles. A love connection in the works, and if Clark objected, he had only himself and Greg to blame. They’d sent Willie and Buzz to look after us.
“So,” Mom began, “have you fools gotten anywhere or have you been standing around eating dry meatloaf for the past few hours?”
We quickly caught Mom and Lorraine up on what had happened at Simon Tuttle’s and on my conversation with Teri Thoms
on.
“Mom, did you know that Mona had a crush on Boaz Shankleman?” I asked, taking my tea and moving to the sofa. Lorraine followed me. The two men pulled chairs from the kitchen table into the living room and sat.
“I heard rumors,” Mom answered, “though I don’t think it was mutual. Boaz often told Art and me how ridiculous he thought Mona was.” She shrugged. “Then again, Boaz was used to women throwing themselves at him. Maybe once in a while he took what Mona was offering. Wouldn’t be the first time a man did that.”
“What about the Fox woman?” Willie asked. “Teri thought she might be having a fling with Shankleman.”
“Very likely,” Mom answered. “Obviously Teri doesn’t miss a thing, which is why Lorraine and I went to the back of Boaz’s place. If Teri Thomson says Fox was visiting Boaz at night, then she was, although Teri’s memory has been slipping lately. All the information is in there, you just have to be patient in prying it out.” I nodded, remembering how Teri had remembered things like pieces of a puzzle dropped to the floor.
“Grandma,” Lorraine said, “you know how you said you saw a light in Boaz’s house the night before I arrived?”
Mom nodded. “Yes, we know now that was probably the night of the murder.”
“Right,” Lorraine continued. “Even though Teri didn’t see Mona, maybe she was here and she saw the light on in Boaz’s house and thought he might be home so went over there to check on him. After all, she knew people were concerned about him.”
“But why would Mona D’Angelo be here that late?” I asked. “She doesn’t live on the property, does she?”
“As a matter of fact,” Mom answered, “she does. Management has always had someone on-site 24/7. There’s a large unit up by the management office just for that purpose. The old manager used to live there, but when she retired last year, she moved to Florida. Mona was promoted from assistant manager to manager and moved on-site.”
I remembered the old manager well. She had been in charge when Mom moved to Seaside. Her name was Avery, and she had been a very efficient but friendly woman. I hadn’t realized she had lived here as part of her job, but even then we had mostly dealt with Mona. “Does Milton stay there too?” I asked. “Teri told me he was her uncle.”
“I don’t think so,” Mom answered. “He drives a sedan—blue, I think. I’ve seen him arrive for work at night. If he lived here, he’d walk.”
“I see where Lorraine is going with this,” chimed in Buzz. “Maybe Mona saw the light, same as Grace did. She went over there, found Fox instead of Shankleman, and attacked her in a fit of jealousy. Because one neighbor’s gone and the other’s deaf, no one would have heard anything unless it was really loud.”
“Do you know yet what the murder weapon was?” asked Willie. “You just said the woman was bludgeoned.”
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Lorraine shudder at the memory. “No, the police didn’t say anything about a weapon.”
“A baseball bat,” Mom said, her eyes fixed on the floor as she tried to make a connection. She looked up at us. “Remember, Odelia, you said to me earlier—what if, when Lorraine went through the window, Boaz was home and thought she was a burglar? You said he might have had a gun and shot her or used something else to defend himself and his home.” Again I saw Lorraine shudder. “You said,” Mom continued, “that you and Greg keep a baseball bat for defense.”
“Do you remember Shankleman having a baseball bat?” I asked her.
“A bat could do some serious damage to someone,” noted Buzz.
Mom shook her head, “No. Not a baseball bat, but I just remembered that Boaz kept a golf club at hand, and I think that’s why. I remember once he had me and Art over for dinner, and Art noticed the club by the front door. He asked Boaz if he played golf, and Boaz said no and made some remark about the club being part of his security system.” Mom scratched her head. “Yes, I remember. Boaz laughed and said Ringo was the alarm and the golf club, the muscle.”
“Did the police ask you about the club when they questioned you?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No, not a word. Maybe they already had it in their possession.” She turned to Lorraine. “Did they ask you about a golf club?”
Lorraine shook her head. “No, they said nothing about a weapon.”
Willie got up and started pacing. “If they had the weapon, I’m sure they would have asked about it.” He walked back and forth in front of the kitchen counter. “The murderer probably took it with him, whether it was the golf club or not.”
“Or her,” added Lorraine.
“Or her,” Willie said, correcting himself.
“Didn’t Teri say that Art was putting something into his car last night?” The question had come from Buzz. Immediately, we three women gave him the stink eye, none of us willing to even consider that Art Franklin would have anything to do with a murder. He caught the glares and quickly added, “As hard as it is to believe, we must consider all the possibilities.”
A silence came over the group that Mom finally broke. “Romeo’s right. As much as it kills me, we cannot scratch Art off the suspect list, although I can’t imagine a motive, especially an emotional one that might have triggered that beating.”
“I’m with Mom about this,” I said. “Mona had a possible motive: jealousy. The gang Titan was mixed up with also had a motive: revenge on whatever Titan did, but Cydney Fox got in the way. The brutal beating could have been a warning to Shankleman and the other band members.”
I turned to Willie, “Are you sure it was the Armenian gang that took Titan out?”
He nodded. “Pretty sure. I’m not clear on the details, but word is he double-crossed them.”
“But he double-crossed them, the band didn’t,” I pointed out. “Are they going after Titan’s other clients too?”
“Good observation, Odelia,” Willie noted. “Do you have a list of the other bands he represented?”
“They would be listed on Titan’s website,” I said. “If they aren’t in danger, then why is Acid Storm?”
Willie pulled out his cell phone and left the room. He headed into the back and we heard a bedroom door shut. The rest of us sat there quietly, waiting, thinking, sleeping with our eyes open. At least I thought I was until the sound of snoring startled me. I straightened up on the sofa and looked around, trying to get my bearings through the fog in my head. The others were laughing softly.
“You nodded off, Odelia,” Mom said, with a shake of her head. “And you snore like a freight train.”
“Only when I’m overly tired,” I said in my defense. “I think I’ve only had two or three hours’ sleep in the past two days.”
“Lorraine and I have only had a little bit more than that,” Mom pointed out.
“I actually feel quite awake,” Lorraine said with a perkiness that made me want to drown her.
“That’s adrenaline,” Buzz said to her.
We heard the bedroom door open, then the bathroom door close. After a few minutes there was a flush, and Willie rejoined us. “My people are going to check to see if that gang is making any claims or threats regarding others connected to Titan West,” he told us. “It could take some time for them to get back to me. It depends on how reliable and connected their sources are.”
“So now what?” asked Mom.
“We’re kind of in a holding pattern right now, Grace,” Willie told her. “But I’d like to take a look around the outside of both Shankleman’s and Art’s homes.”
I got up to go with him, but he waved me back down. “Buzz and I will do that,” he said. “We’ll be back before you know it.” When I tried to protest, he said with firmness, “This is non-negotiable, Odelia. You understand? Besides, you look about to drop.”
“He’s right, Odelia,” Mom said, looking me over. “The zombies on TV look more alive than you right now.” I shot her a glar
e, but it was pretty weak in my current state of exhaustion.
“You ladies try to get in a catnap while Buzz and I are out,” Willie said as they headed for the door. “We won’t be gone long.”
twenty
I didn’t know how long I’d been asleep, but light was peeking through the closed blinds in my mother’s guest room when I opened my eyes. I was sprawled facedown on top of the bed. After blinking several times, I rolled over onto my back, swung my legs over the side, and slowly got into a sitting position. I must have dropped onto the bed like dead weight because I had one shoe on and one shoe off. After slipping into my one stray shoe, I stood up and shook my head a few times. My mouth felt dry and prickly. Tilting my head back and my nose upward, I caught the odor of bacon mingled with brewed coffee, and it filled me with resolve to stay upright. Of their own accord, my feet started moving toward the door.
After stumbling my way to the bathroom, where I washed my face and rinsed my mouth out with some mouthwash, I felt somewhat ready to face the world—or at least what was waiting for me in my mother’s kitchen.
“Well, look who’s up?” Mom announced from the kitchen table, where she and Lorraine were nursing coffee mugs. Empty plates were in front of them.
“What time is it?” I asked. I’d left my phone in my bag and the bag in the living room when I’d gone to the guest bedroom. After Willie and Buzz had left, it was decided I’d take the guest room and Lorraine would take the sofa. The guys were barely out the door when we each gave in to our bone-weariness and headed to bed as soon as they left.
“Just after nine,” Lorraine said as she got up and shuttled the dirty dishes to the sink.
“Nine?” I asked with surprise. I glanced out the open blinds to Mom’s patio, where it was sunny. I shook off my stupor. “Why didn’t you wake me when the guys returned?”
“They didn’t wake any of us,” Lorraine said, sounding a bit miffed. “Just crept in and out and left this note, along with your car keys.” She picked up a piece of paper from the table. Next to it were my car keys, which I distinctly remember as being in my bag. “We must have all been comatose from exhaustion,” Lorraine added, “because they had to come in to get the keys, then again to leave the note. Kind of like cat burglars.”
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