“…Listen to how I’m carrying on, when you’ve had your own problems. I’m so sorry all this had to come to the surface. And as usual, my timing is lousy.”
“No worse than mine,” I said, waving off her apology. “Don’t worry. Forget it.”
This Joey business is more complicated than I originally thought.
She made a feeble attempt at another smile before looking behind us once again.
Fear was sticking to her like the sand to our shoes. “Hey,” I said, “It’s time to head back.”
Chapter 4
Strike Three You’re Out
I woke with a start, bolting upright in my bed. Someone was down in the cabana. Most houses on the beach had reverse living. The ground floor had a cabana, leading to the beach patio, second floor was the bedroom level with a deck off the master, and the top floor had the kitchen, living room and another deck with spectacular views. Distracted by Mona’s visit, I must have forgotten to lock the cabana again.
I tiptoed through the bedroom, hefting my weapon of choice, Stephen’s old heavy metal baseball bat. Why? Because I hadn’t worked up the nerve to arm myself with a gun yet. I had come close in the past, but then figured I might do more harm to myself than to an intruder. Now I found myself reconsidering that former hasty decision.
I quietly opened the bedroom door, which led to the hall and stairwell that spiraled up and down. The moonlight gave a sliver of visibility, barely allowing me to see where I was walking without turning on the light. That was a good thing. The bad thing?
You know, there is always the bad thing.
What would I do if confronted by an intruder? Bunt? My nerves were making my hands shake. I stared down the hall. Apparently the noise hadn’t woken Mona yet. Good. I might not have been able to shut her up. She tended to get talkative in stressful situations. I focused my attention back on the stairwell and glanced down. I heard it once again. Now what?
Well, news flash!
I’m no hero. Someone was in the house, rummaging around in the cabana. After that, the intruder would most likely come up to the bedroom level, where we were. Damn, I realized I had left my cell phone on the night table.
Brainless.
I stood there, considering a strategy for my predicament.
It was sort of iffy.
My floors were hardwood. But if I made it this far, couldn’t I just as easily go back undetected? I hesitated, and took a chance, pivoting quickly to retrieve my cell.
Unfortunately, I lost my balance with the sheer weight of the metal bat and toppled a statue that smacked into the stair railing. It flew down the stairwell, creating a racket all the way down to the cabana, hitting the marble floor at the bottom. Did I mention the railing was metal, too? It echoed like a bomb detonating, with a final explosion at the end.
Gripping the bat tightly, I raced for my cell phone, punched in 911, and returned to the stairwell, peeking over the railing. That was when I heard the cabana door open.
No!
I raced out to the deck off the master to catch a glimpse of who it was, but only saw a leg and foot in the moonlight. They vanished near the corner of the house. Breathless, I quickly called in to report the intruder, giving my address to the dispatcher.
A commotion broke out in the hallway, and it sounded like it was coming my way. I was still leaning over the railing, so I turned to look back as Mona raced out onto the deck.
“What the hell is going on?” she shouted, hefting a large black umbrella.
What a sight she was: disheveled brown hair, bathrobe half-on, half-off her threatening, substantial frame. She was breathing heavily. A smile tugged at my mouth.
“What happened?” she asked. “It sounded like we were being attacked. Are you hurt? Did someone break in?” She came to an abrupt halt. “What are you doing on the deck in this cold weather, carrying a bat?”
I was trying hard not to laugh, and slowly losing the battle.
“Hey! Wait a minute!” said Mona. “You’re not gonna jump, are you?”
I turned around to face her completely, gripping my bathrobe tighter around me. “And what were you going to do with that umbrella of yours? Stab somebody? Or were you expecting rain?”
We stood in the shadows, weapons drawn, ready to go, and then we both broke out laughing.
“Hey, let’s get inside,” I suggested as I pushed off from the railing. “The police will be here in about three minutes.”
Mona took a swing with her umbrella. “Damn! That’s not fair. I was itching to strike somebody out!”
Chapter 5
Assessing Probability
With our feet propped up on the two other kitchen chairs, Mona and I idly sat at the table, sipping our coffee from extra large mugs. We’d both agreed we needed the additional caffeine after the previous night’s ordeal. I was still frustrated by what happened. How was I to describe to the police someone’s barely recognizable leg and foot?
“I’m so upset that I wasn’t able to run faster to the edge of the deck for a better look,” I complained, letting out a sigh. “I always get distracted and forget to lock that cabana door.”
“Sorry, Sam. I didn’t hear a thing at first. I was out cold. Chances are it won’t happen again, though.”
“It’s not your fault you didn’t pick up on it. I’m normally a light sleeper and somehow got lucky, that’s all. Well, sort of. I heard whoever it was, but then I kind of botched the rest.”
Mona stared at me. “May I suggest you stick to hiking, Sam? You were never really good at anything remotely physical that required equipment—that is, if my memory serves me correctly from our college days.”
“You don’t have to rub it in, Mona. I feel bad enough as it is. I have to replace that statue. That ought to set me back a pretty penny. This place is rented furnished, remember?”
“Yeah, you’re right. I forgot about that little detail.” Mona laughed. “But, just in case, you’d better start taking meticulous inventory.”
I grinned back. “Thank goodness my last novel is doing well,” I said. “I could certainly use the extra money.”
“With your luck,” she said, “and after seeing all the statues in this house, I strongly suggest you hustle with your current book. You’ll need some serious cash flow to pay for any potential future mishaps. This isn’t the mountains, Sam. Your exposure is greater here, both financial and physical.”
“Very funny,” I said, trying to keep it as light as possible.
Chapter 6
Making Calls And Having Reservations
A rough outline for my book began to take shape on the evening of the break-in, when my adrenaline was still pumping away and I couldn’t go back to sleep. Before I realized it, I was building a storyline around the events that had taken place ever since Mona stepped back into the picture.
And now this call. She was currently on the phone in her room, obviously in a heated exchange. Bits and pieces drifted in my direction. I fought the urge to eavesdrop. I swear I really did.
“Phil…”
“No… won’t.”
“You… that’s—crazy.”
“What…?”
“I can’t… back…”
“…Dangerous.”
“Life, damn it.”
“I’m sick—stuck…”
“I know.”
“I wasn’t… for this.”
“Don’t … trace…”
“It’s… a throw…”
“ …Time’s up.”
I typed in a wild frenzy, trying to keep up.
This was good stuff!
It was only the blanks that were throwing me off my game, but then in a heartbeat, the conversation stopped. She must have hung up.
I focused on what I had typed. It was incomprehensible, but intriguing. I sat back and looked down at my computer in utter amazement, and then at my hands, which apparently, without much input from me, mind you, had taken over once again without my permission. What had come ove
r me? Why did I bother? None of it made any sense.
Mona opened her bedroom door and marched down the hall to my room. I discreetly closed my word document. My mailbox and cursor hovered innocently on the screen. I swung around in my chair, smiling. “Hi there. How’s it going?”
“I’ve had better days,” she replied grumpily. “These phone interviews get to me. I hope I didn’t disturb you too much. I may have raised my voice now and then. Sorry.”
Raised her voice?
“Any luck?” I asked, still smiling.
“Nobody seems to be hiring right now. It’s so frustrating. Maybe it’s the economy. Maybe I’m being too picky. Are you absolutely sure you don’t mind me staying for a while?”
What? After that phone call?
She had definitely roped me in with that cryptic conversation. “No, not at all!”
Interview? I didn’t think so!
“Hey,” Mona said. “I read in the local paper that Emily’s Café is open year-round. How about you take a break tonight and I treat you to dinner at the Flanders Hotel?”
It was a tempting offer that, under the circumstances, I finally decided to accept. “Well… sure. Why not? I’d love to. I have their number. Let me make a quick call to reserve a table.”
Chapter 7
Dining & Dishing
We had finished the last of our dessert and were drinking coffee.
“I could get used to this,” I said. “Thanks. I appreciate the treat, Mona.” Somehow, I had to gently nudge her into talking. I needed more to go on.
“You’re welcome. It’s the least I could do for you after allowing me to barge in on you when you’re trying write your next novel.”
“To tell you the truth, I needed a break. I can’t seem to stay focused, too many distractions. I’m beginning to think placing my desk under that bedroom window, facing the beach, might have been a major mistake. God knows I’ve made enough of those in my life.”
Mona nodded. “Hey, join the club. But let me ask you this, Sam. Is Stephen included in your last statement?”
I thought for a moment. “Stephen and me? A mistake? No. I don’t think so. Could I have changed his past? Another no. Could I have changed our future? That, I’ll never know. Not now, anyway. When I wrote my last book, I was dealing with Stephen’s death, but in the process of sorting through the truth, I found myself facing some major changes in my life, like not taking everything for granted. Hopefully, I’ve learned something from all of it. Still, this other learning curve? Going it alone? It’s been tough!”
“Amen to that!” Mona said. “I know exactly what that feels like, especially when I realized things weren’t about to change, only worsen. You see, in the end, I couldn’t ignore all the inferred threats. My choices?” She suddenly laughed sarcastically. “What choices? I really had only one. Walk away. My learning curve was to try to outlive my mistakes.”
I attempted to comprehend what I had just heard. Mona was staring out the window, obviously somewhere else. What did she mean?
What threats? Outlive what mistakes?
Should I say something? Ignore it? Keep talking? Or wait for something more? I chose to remain silent and for her to come around on her own.
Finally, she turned back to me and smiled. “I’ve been such a fool, Sam. How come some people never learn? They think they can do anything, correct any wrongs, and worst of all, they trust implicitly. That may be the biggest injustice. Absolute blind trust. When your trust has been betrayed, what do you have left? I can tell you from experience, not that much. I was rewarded with out-and-out betrayal, Sam.”
She turned away once again, staring off blankly. “Let me offer some words of advice, Sam: Trust no one.” She laughed softly. “Not even me.”
Those words were sounds of emotional defeat, someone reconciling with their fate. Which was what? Mona always knew what she wanted and she went out and got it. ‘No’ was not in her vocabulary—at least, not in the vocabulary of the Mona I once knew.
This new persona was difficult to read. She had changed in many ways. Although, when I thought back to the night of the break-in, I saw shades of the old Mona shine through, fearless, denouncing whoever was in her way, game for a verbal or physical exchange.
She swung around to face me, smiling. “This conversation has become so maudlin, it’s pathetic. Plus, that’s not what I came for when I thought of you. Sam, you’ve always been a fighter, albeit a quiet one, but still a fighter. I’ve always loved that about you.”
“Then let’s get out of here,” I offered. “We can skirt the boardwalk and walk along the beach. It’s not that cold, and we have just enough light left to get back. We’ll have some wine and talk about old times. How’s that sound?”
“Now you’re talking!” laughed Mona, getting up.
Although it had gotten chilly as nightfall descended all around us, our fleeces kept us warm as we headed south. We made our way across the sandy beach while rolling breakers crashed on our left and the lit boardwalk glowed at a slight distance to our right.
After we passed the commercial district and drew near the residential houses that lined the boardwalk, it became much harder to see. I noticed that it became more deeply shadowed because a few of the boardwalk lights weren’t working.
Normally, I wouldn’t walk on the beach after dusk, but I figured that with Mona for company, there was the power of two. Misgivings promptly surfaced the minute it turned dark. “I didn’t realize it was so late. Instead of walking along the beach, we probably should’ve walked the boards instead.”
“It’s not that far, is it? Besides, we used to do this all the time.”
“I guess so,” I admitted, and then smiled, turning in her direction. I was heartened to see that she was finally relaxing after recalling a few of our comical pranks while we walked. “You know, I’d forgotten how much I really missed that carefree part of my life, Mona. Thanks for reminding me.”
She grinned. “You see, Sam? Dining out and dishing with an old girlfriend works every time!”
Chapter 8
Under What Boardwalk?
“Remember that one college break when we buried that guy up to his neck in sand and the tide started coming in?” I asked, chuckling. “We thought we would die laughing! I haven’t thought about that in years.”
“It served him right,” added a snickering Mona, “after we saw him stealing money from our wallets. I have to admit, using our feminine guile, luring him into letting us bury him, was great payback. If I recall, the other lifeguards thought it was quite funny, too.”
I laughed. “The look on his face when we walked away was priceless. The heavy, wet sand was a bonus, too!”
“Yeah, but his friends dug him out just as the tide came in. That wasn’t fair,” replied a still-disappointed Mona.
“Now, come on!” I said. “Don’t tell me you weren’t expecting that to happen.”
“Look, Sam, as a lifeguard, he should’ve known how to get out of sticky situations. Right? I got cheated out of a Houdini moment that I was really looking forward to.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw a hand materialize out of nowhere and roughly latch onto Mona’s purse strap, knocking her off balance.
Without thinking, I whipped my leg up, giving a swift kick in defense.
I knew it connected when I heard a voice shout, “Bitch!” The attacker doubled over, away from us, and fell back into the murky shadows.
Mona, thrown by the assault, yelled, “What the… ?”
I grabbed her arm, yanking her back upright. “Come on!” I insisted, dragging her toward the boardwalk. I could barely make out her assailant, who was rolling in the sand and moaning in pain, as we began running in the sinking sand.
I had to give Mona credit. She was big, but light of foot. She ran right alongside me without one word of complaint—that is, until we approached the boardwalk.
Glancing around, I saw the shadowy form of our assailant staggering to his feet. We wouldn�
�t have time to get to safety.
“Duck under here,” I instructed over the rumble of the surf hitting the beach.
“Whoa! We’re going where?” she asked, coming to a halt. “I don’t think so!” She attempted to back away.
“Quick! Get under the boardwalk!” I ordered. I reached out and tried to drag her closer.
She wouldn’t budge.
“Look, we don’t have time for this now, Mona!” I whispered fiercely.
“But there are bugs and spiders under there! I hate creepy crawlies! Especially if I can’t see them! Besides, it’s pitch black under there! You know I hate dark, closed-in places! Are you completely out of your mind, Sam?”
“No! Now, move!” I gave her a quick, forceful shove and was finally able to push her underneath.
“Oh, my God! I think I’m going to be sick. I can’t do this, Sam!”
A shadowy figure approached the boardwalk, panting and cursing loudly.
I quickly covered her mouth, dragging her back further. It was cold, but she had broken out in a sweat. She tried to fight me off.
“Mmmf… mmmf,” she moaned weakly from under the grip of my hand, as the thunderous breakers hit the beach.
I whispered directly in her ear. “I think it’s your mugger, looking for us. Be quiet. Please.” And she was. She became perfectly still. Crouching low, we watched and waited as whoever it was raced back and forth, searching…
Eventually, the assailant took off for the ramp that led to the boardwalk. We heard his footsteps fade overhead, and then the sound of running in a northerly direction, away from us.
When I finally let go of her, Mona collapsed on the sand, breathing heavily. “I think I’m having a heart attack,” she said. “I have to sit down.”
“I wouldn’t do that, Mona,” I advised in the dark.
“Do… what?” she asked warily.
“Sit down,” I replied calmly.
Without Any Warning (A Samantha Jamison Mystery Volume 2) Page 2