Murder at the Pool Party

by Sandi Scott

  “All this from making indoor theme parks.” Georgie mumbled.

  “If you build it, they will come.”

  “I guess so. I wonder...” Georgie stopped speaking and leaned back slightly in her seat. She held her index finger to her lips and jerked her chin in Aleta’s direction but beyond her.

  There was a hallway that looked to lead further into the house just to the left of the massive dining room. It was a rather hidden avenue since from where everyone else was sitting and walking around it looked like there was nothing more than a bookcase against the wall. Only from the vantage point of where Georgie was sitting could you see the entrance.

  Standing there was the young woman who had been glaring at Maren. In the subtle, lighting of the house she looked like she couldn’t be a day over twenty-five. What was she doing at an Excellent Over 50 event? It didn’t take long for Georgie to get her answer. The man with her was definitely over fifty and they didn’t act like father and daughter.

  Georgie didn’t want to give away her position. Aleta, following her sister’s lead, cocked her head and strained to listen.

  “Over there.” The young girl said.

  “What do you expect me to do?” the man replied.

  “What you promised.” Before her voice could get any louder the man stomped out of the hallway and directly up to Maren who had been enjoying her vegetarian lasagna alone at a table next to the floor to ceiling windows that made up the far wall.

  Georgie saw the man whisper in her ear. Before she knew it they headed down the main hallway. It didn’t take a genius to guess what was happening as they proceeded to head upstairs. Maybe Aleta was right and it was one of those parties.

  “No. Maren is taking her plate with her. It isn’t like that. It couldn’t be.”

  “Couldn’t be what?” Aleta asked as her sister continued to mumble to herself.

  “Well, Maren and the tart’s sugar-daddy just went upstairs.”

  “No.”

  “Yes. But Maren took her plate of food.”

  Aleta tilted her head. “That’s odd. If they are going to do what we are assuming they are going to do. Otherwise, maybe she’s just that hungry and wants to eat while they talk.”

  “Why can’t they talk down here with everyone else?”

  “Maybe they don’t want to be overheard by an older lady who is always rooting around in other people’s business.”

  “Right. You really should stop doing that Aleta.” Georgie looked at her watch. “Would you like a refill? I’m thinking another scoop of spaghetti and then some dessert.”

  “I think I’m going to go right to the dessert. Why don’t you get extra spaghetti and I’ll get extra desserts and we’ll meet back here?”

  “That sounds perfect.”

  The sister’s split up and filled their plates. After a few pleasant exchanges with some of the guests and another thank you to Beth for the beautiful spread they were back at their table by the fireplace.

  “I took some tiramisu.” Aleta admitted almost sadly.

  “I don’t like tiramisu. It’s one of the few desserts I don’t like. If I want soggy cookies I’ll dunk chocolate chip cookies in milk.”

  “I know, but the guy serving it up looked so hopeful someone would take some. I think he made it.”

  Georgie looked at the fellow. He was wearing a white shirt with Vickie’s Catering embroidered over the pocket. Georgie couldn’t tell if his eyes were droopy naturally or if he really was hoping someone else would dive into the tiramisu.

  “Fine. I’ll choke down a bite. Thank goodness there are some lemon squares and brownies to wash it down with.” Georgie wrinkled her nose, took her fork, carved herself a small dollop of tiramisu and ate it.

  “So?”

  “It’s tiramisu. No matter how you dress it up.” Suddenly, Georgie’s eyes popped. “Here comes Maren. Where is the sugar-daddy?”

  “Where is the tart?” Aleta looked around the room. “I can’t believe we are calling that young girl a tart. We don’t know that’s what she is.”

  Georgie rolled her eyes and looked at her sister as if she just said she was sure the moon was made out of cream cheese with a graham cracker and cherry center.

  “Hello, ladies.” Maren said in a breathy voice. She was walking a bit unsteadily as she approached the women. With a shaky hand she reached out to steady herself against the wingback of Aleta’s chair. “I don’t know what it is but I’m suddenly not feeling well.”

  Georgie and Aleta both stood up.

  “Here sit down.” Aleta urged. “Maybe you’ve just had too much sun.”

  “I’ll get you a glass of water.” Georgie hurried over to the dining room table where she grabbed a tall glass and informed Beth, the hostess, that one of her guests was feeling a little off.

  “Please don’t make a fuss.” Maren said, trying to smile. “I don’t want anyone to worry. I’ll be fine.”

  “It’s no trouble, Maren. Just take a few deep breaths.” Aleta saw Georgie coming quickly with Beth following behind her.

  “Here. A little cold water will help.” Georgie handed her new friend the glass and watched her take a couple of sips.

  “You’re right. I feel better already.” But Georgie and Aleta knew she wasn’t being truthful. The color had almost completely left her cheeks. She was sweating horribly, and her hands were shaking so badly Georgie had to take the glass from her for fear she’d spill it all over the front of her muumuu.

  “Beth. I think you might need to call 9-1-1.” Aleta said as she took Maren’s hand in hers and patted it.

  “I think you are right.” Beth replied. “Just sit tight, honey.”

  Chapter 4

  Georgie and Aleta sat with Maren as some of the guests who hadn’t returned to the pool watched what was going on. Before long two men in fluorescent orange jackets with the letters EMT written on the back showed up pulling a stretcher that had an orange tackle box sitting on top of it.

  Within minutes they had Maren on the stretcher and were hurrying her to the ambulance. Before anyone had a chance to say good-bye or wish her well Maren was in the back of the ambulance that was speeding away with lights and sirens blaring.

  “What do we do now?” Aleta looked at Georgie.

  “Beth said there were going to be some games and prizes after lunch. We should probably stay for a little while. We don’t want her to think we just came for the free meal.”

  Aleta nodded. They went back outside. It was a little after four in the afternoon and the sun was starting to inch its way toward the horizon. The pool was covered with the cool shadow of the house, but that didn’t stop a good number of guests from taking a dip as the games started.

  Some people chose to sit under umbrellas and at the bar playing what was really just a glamorized version of Trivial Pursuit. Other people bobbed up and down in the pool while talking. Still others lingered around the dining room still enjoying dessert while talking and watching the party.

  So far a couple of the guests had won prizes. They were hilariously practical. A cane to help put shoes and socks on without having to bend over. A copper bracelet to increase circulation. A coupon organizer. Everyone was having a great time.

  “I am stuffed. That pasta was fantastic.” Aleta said as she stretched out on a chase lounge, making sure her legs are covered by her dress.

  “You know, this is a great place for a party but I don’t think I like it more than my bungalow.” Georgie mused. She had her cover-up pulled slightly to the side exposing her shapely legs, cellulite and all.

  “My gosh. We’d have to get up twenty minutes earlier just to make the journey across the yard to each others house every morning. Nope. You are right. I’ll take my gangway and alley in the back over this.” Aleta agreed completely.

  “But,” Georgie mused, “if someone said here, take this house, it’s already paid for. I wouldn’t turn it down, either.”

  “Oh, the neighbors would love you. With that shark hea
d lawn ornament from the middle of your front yard and all the weird things you have hanging from the trees.” Aleta laughed. “I could see you changing the color scheme to something like bright red shutters and a round door like in the movie, The Hobbit, with Pablo parked in the driveway.”

  “No one would see anything. This place is removed from the riff-raff down the street. But, you are probably right. A tackier element would surely be introduced.”

  Suddenly the sound of Hot Chocolate singing You Sexy Thing came from Georgie’s clutch causing several people to look in her direction. Georgie quickly pulled her phone from her purse and accidently hit the answer button when she meant to decline.

  “Uh, yes, hello?” She looked at her watch. “Hi, Obby. What’s happening?” Georgie looked at Aleta who was staring at her sister with one eyebrow arched.

  “I’m at a pool party with Aleta.” Georgie cleared her throat. “I don’t know. To be honest, I think I’ll be too tired after being in the sun all day to do anything tonight. But thank you for thinking of me. Yes. I’ll give you a call. You, too, Obby. Bye-bye.”

  “What did he want?”

  “He wanted to know if I wanted to go to dinner and a play with him.”

  “You sound like that’s a bad thing.”

  Georgie told her sister about their last date and that she wasn’t sure what she was feeling anymore. She liked Obby. She liked him a lot. But she was afraid he was pushing for more.

  “Have you told him how you felt?” Aleta asked.

  “Yes. Bluntly. You couldn’t get any blunter. But he says he’s not giving up. Did I sound snooty telling him I was at this party? I didn’t mean to come off snooty.”

  “No. You sounded honest.”

  “Maybe it would have been better to come across snooty. I don’t know.”

  “Georgie, I think you are the one putting too much pressure on yourself. Not Obby.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, he’s made himself clear that he’s got the hots for you.”

  “Did you really say hots? What has come over you?”

  “But instead of saying, ‘Love me if you must but do it from afar,’ like you used to in high school, you are treating it like the same kind of commitment you had with Stan.”

  “I don’t think I treat Obby anything like the way I treat Stan.” Georgie wrinkled her nose at the thought. “I tell Stan he smells. I’d never say that to Obby.”

  “You and Stan were married for thirty-five years. Your commitment to the marriage never changed even though the marriage did. So now, when you go out with Obby you worry about his feelings, his thoughts, his wants, like you would a man who you were deeply committed to. I think you do it out of habit. You need to reconnect with your high school Georgie. The one who juggled three or four guys at a time because you had fun.”

  “You might have that kind of energy, Aleta, but I’m being honest when I say that Bodhi is the only male I can tolerate these days. Even he is on thin ice half the time.” Georgie couldn’t help smiling as she thought of her pug.

  “I’m not saying you have to date four guys at once. I’m saying if you want to see a football game have a jock take you. If you want to go fishing, have Stan take you. If you want to visit an art show, have Obby take you. If you want to go dancing find a dude who can jitterbug to take you.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “Instead of thinking you have to have everything with either Stan or Obby, start thinking that there might be some good friends out there. Including those two knuckleheads. Isn’t that why we came to this party?”

  “To meet new people? Yes. That’s why.”

  “And we met a couple. If we saw them again we could definitely say hello.”

  “Yes. I think so.”

  “So,” Aleta paused briefly for emphasis before continuing, “stop worrying about hurting Obby’s feelings with the truth. Or Stan’s for that matter. They know where you stand. Neither of them is in a position to tell you what to do. Only I can do that.”

  Aleta gently nudged Georgie and they both chuckled.

  “You are right.” Georgie said. “Now, what about you? Did you talk to anyone here who you found particularly interesting?”

  “Sadly, just you. But I didn’t really make an effort. At Beth Bonomolo’s next party I’ll do better.”

  “They are about to read another trivia question.” Georgie said.

  “I don’t know any of these. I used to be so good at trivia.”

  “No, that was me. You were never good at trivia.” Georgie was positive.

  “I thought I was.”

  Just as Beth and Sean were deciding who was going to read the next question to the group one of the servants in black trousers and a white shirt came hurrying up with the phone.

  As Beth answered it her face fell.

  “Uh-oh.” Georgie said as she watched. “Something is wrong.”

  Beth turned around and took two steps toward the house. Then she stopped, turned to Sean and took hold of his arm. She nodded her head and nearly lost her balance as she set the phone on a nearby table.

  “Ladies and gentlemen. I am so sorry to tell but our dear friend Maren has... passed away.”

  A collective gasp went through the whole yard.

  Chapter 5

  It had been three days since the pool party and the unexpected death of Georgie and Aleta’s new friend, Maren Ingrid.

  Beth Bonomolo had sent everyone an email with details of the wake and funeral if anyone wanted to attend.

  “How would you like that?” Georgie said as she mashed bananas in a bowl as Aleta mixed the dry ingredients for banana bread in another bowl. “You throw this nice party to celebrate people up there in age and one of your guests dies.”

  Aleta started to laugh.

  “It isn’t funny, Aleta.” Georgie said, barely able to keep the smile off her face.

  “I guess some people are just dying to go to a pool party.”

  “Oh, very funny. Would you show some respect?”

  “Beth didn’t tell anyone she invited the Grim Reaper.”

  “Aleta Kaye! You are terrible!” Georgie was losing control. The laughter was trying to burst through her chest but she held it back.

  “You’re just mad you didn’t think of it first.”

  “I don’t know about you, Aleta.” Georgie looked down at the cat that was circling her ankles. Freckles, Aleta’s feline, had joined them at Georgie’s house to bake banana bread. “Freckles, your mama is losing it.”

  Just as they were putting the first batch of banana loaves in the oven there was a knock on the door.

  “Hello? Anyone home?” Stan called in the front door.

  “We’re in the kitchen, Stan.” Georgie called to him. He appeared in the kitchen looking a little rougher than usual around the edges and a good bit tired. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. It was a long night though.” Stan’s voice sounded tired.

  “Fighting crime can take it out of you.” Aleta replied. “Coffee?”

  Stan nodded as he pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and took a seat. He wrapped his hands around the mug then reached down to pet an excited Bodhi who was attempting to get Stan’s attention.

  “There was a death in Winnetka a couple of days ago. We had to search the property of the place where it happened and the home of the victim. It took forever.” He took a sip of coffee.

  “Maren Ingrid?” Georgie whirled around, her potato masher in her hands covered with banana.

  “Yeah. How did you know?”

  “We were at the pool party when she got sick.” Aleta said. “Oh my gosh. You had to search Beth Bonomolo’s whole house.” She looked at Georgie. “You only do that if you suspect some kind of foul play.”

  “Why didn’t you call us?” Georgie asked Stan indignantly, “We would have helped. I would kill to see the rest of that house. I’ll bet the bedrooms are something.”

  “You know she has a basement, too.
” Aleta added. “It’s probably totally finished and houses their collection of classic cars or something equally decadent.”

  “I wonder what her kitchen looks like. I’ll bet...”

  “You were at the party?” Stan interrupted Georgie, looking at her as if she were a teenager who had snuck out of the house in the middle of the night.

  “Yes. It was a last minute thing.” Georgie answered as if she had gotten caught sneaking out of the house at night. “Beth is the organizer for Awesome Over 50. It was very nice.”

  “It’s actually called Excellent Over 50.” Aleta corrected.

  “That’s a dating group.” Stan nearly stuttered. “Why were you guys there?”

  “It’s not just a dating group, Stan. It’s a place where people our age can meet other people our age. I’m so tired of these young bucks in their thirties hitting on me.” Georgie teased. “Sometimes I would just like to talk with someone who knows who John Wayne was.”

  It was obvious Stan was more than shocked but he was trying his best to act casual. He looked more like he had a bad case of gas.

  “What makes you think it was murder?” Aleta asked.

  “I didn’t say it was murder but it was suspicious. She ingested Belladonna.” He clicked his tongue.

  “Really?” Georgie looked at Aleta.

  Stan nodded. “We inspected the Ingrid property. She had belladonna bushes in her yard. Her property was almost as large as the Bonomolo property. There weren’t many of those dark purple berries around but they were there. I’m leaning toward her thinking they were one thing when really they were another. Sometimes these rich people try to get back to nature and don’t realize how far out of their element a walk in the backyard can take them.”

  “Accidental poisoning. How sad.” Georgie muttered. But she wasn’t really thinking it was an accidental poisoning. She was thinking it might have been intentional. The memory of the tart and her sugar-daddy popped into her head. “I think we should take some of this banana bread to Beth Bonomolo’s house. I’ll bet she’s feeling awful.”