Murder at the Pool Party

by Sandi Scott

  “You speak about this like you know from experience.”

  Georgie didn’t say a word. To Aleta, it was the same as admitting on a stack of Bibles she was guilty.

  “You didn’t! I’m going to ask Stan where and when!”

  “Don’t you dare! That horn-dog will think it means I want to get back together. You know it never takes much to make a man see himself as Orlando Furioso.”

  Aleta stopped laughing but Georgie knew her sister was going to use this bit of information in some blackmail scheme someday.

  “I think what we need to do is meet up with Biff.” Georgie changed the subject. “I’d like to ask him a few questions.”

  “We? I was reading my book when you walked in.”

  “I didn’t mean we were going this minute. I have to email him first.”

  “How did you get his email? Did you ask Beth for it?”

  “I suppose I could have. I went into her email when she was talking with Sean.” Georgie looked out into the back yard. Aleta’s landscaping was neat and well maintained with hardly a weed to be seen. Georgie’s yard, on the other hand, was bordered with wildflowers, hanging ferns, and over half a dozen birdfeeders, wind-chimes and colorful glass things hanging from every tree branch. These often proved to be a real obstacle for anyone cutting the grass. Stan hit his head more than once each time he came to help with the lawn.

  “You went into her email and you stole soap from her.”

  “This is guest soap. She had dozens of them in the vanity drawer.”

  “They weren’t even placed out? You went through her stuff?”

  “Aleta, you act as if you’ve never snooped in someone’s bathroom.”

  “I never have.”

  “Never?” Georgie looked at her sister only to be greeted with a condescending stare. “Look at all you’re missing.” She pointed to the little soap in her hand.

  Chapter 7

  That night, after putting the finishing touches on the portrait of Princess the poodle, Georgie sat down at her computer and typed out an email invitation to Biff Stapleton.

  “Don’t know if you remember me? No. That sounds high schoolish.” She leaned on her elbows at the kitchen table. Two untouched chocolate chip cookies sat next to her. “Met you at Beth Bonomolo’s party. Maybe.” She took a bite of one cookie then snapped her finger.

  She introduced herself and mentioned being at Beth’s house. It wasn’t a come-on, but it was an invitation to meet at a popular hotdog stand along the lakefront. She hit the send button and hoped to hear back within the next couple of days. She was shocked when her email notice pinged within a few minutes.

  I know exactly where Pop’s Place is. Will see you there tomorrow. Two o’clock?

  “That’s a little creepy, Bodhi. But, maybe he was just on the computer at the same time as me, right? I shouldn’t be so suspicious.” She looked at her pug that was sleeping on the kitchen floor, his legs stretched behind him froggy style. “Sounds good, Biff. C U @ 2. That’s how all the kids communicate today.” She said as she hit send.

  THE NEXT DAY WAS OVERCAST. The breeze off the lake was cool so Georgie was glad she’d worn a sweater. It was a long, patchworked thing with ruffles around the collar and cuffs. Its bright green color was the perfect addition to plain blue jeans and a crisp white blouse.

  “You shouldn’t wear those shoes.” Aleta said.

  “Red and green are complimentary colors. Art 101.”

  I’m not saying they don’t look nice. But what if the guy ends up being dangerous? How are you going to run in those elf shoes?”

  Georgie looked down at her fake leather shoes that did, indeed, curl up at the toes into a tight little donut not unlike Bodhi’s tail.

  “You forget that I raised three children. You think I’ve forgotten how to make a scene just because they don’t live in the house anymore?” She winked. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with me? Who knows, maybe Biff will end up being a really nice guy looking for a companion to spend his time with.”

  “Then you should suggest he get a dog.” Aleta rolled her eyes. “He is not even close to being my type.”

  “Your type went out with letter sweaters and duck tails, Aleta. Don’t worry. I’ll give him your number.”

  “You better not.”

  “I’ll tell him you especially like to get phone calls in the middle of the night and answering with heavy breathing is okay.”

  “You know, just to make sure you don’t, I’m going with you.” Aleta grabbed her purse and slipped into a pair of leather clogs that Georgie had coveted since the day Aleta brought them home.

  “Now you want to go. Hmmm... methinks thou doth protest too much.”

  “Very funny. I’m driving.”

  “Go ahead. I’m walking so I’ll meet you there.” Georgie chuckled.

  “Fine. We’ll walk. How about some iced coffee for the trip?”

  “Brilliant idea.” Georgie smiled and helped get ice from the freezer.

  As they strolled down the sidewalk heading toward the lakefront they discussed Biff Stapleton and the little bit they knew about him. Once they got to Pop’s Place Aleta pointed to a bench off the sidewalk beneath some tall trees.

  “I’ll keep an eye from there.”

  “That’s perfect.” Georgie said.

  “If anything starts to go south just scream your head off. I’ll come running.”

  “That also sounds perfect.”

  “Run around in a circle flapping your elbows like a bird.” Aleta urged. “Would you please?”

  Georgie rolled her eyes as Aleta giggled and she made her way toward the secluded bench. It was a quarter to two. Georgie sat down at one of the benches in front of Pop’s and wondered if Biff would remember what she looked like.

  “Who names their kid Biff? I wonder if that is a nickname. It’s got to be.” She muttered as she took a look around.

  It wasn’t long before she saw Biff walking up the sidewalk, his head down and his shoulders hunched as he stared at his phone. He looked up just in time to avoid colliding with a jogger who had his headphones on.

  “Yikes!” he looked right at Georgie. “That was close.”

  “Biff?”

  “Georgie. Did you see that?”

  “He almost got you.”

  “If I were just ten years younger I’d have given him a reason to run.”

  A temper. Interesting. Georgie thought to herself. Aloud she said, “Thanks for coming to meet me, Biff. Have a seat.” Georgie patted the spot next to her on the bench. “I didn’t get a chance to talk with you at Beth’s event the other day. Now that there has been this turn of events I...”

  “I know.” He quickly slid onto the bench, but his eyes stayed focused on the lake.

  “Did you know Maren well?”

  He didn’t answer right away. Georgie watched as his jaw clenched and his eyes blinked like he was looking at the sun even though it was behind them.

  “We dated. I was hoping for more.”

  “Why do you think she wasn’t interested?”

  “Why do you want to know?”

  Georgie didn’t flinch. She narrowed her eyes.

  “Because Maren was poisoned. Belladonna was found in her system.”

  Biff’s eyes became wide.

  “I didn’t do it.” He admitted immediately. “I didn’t poison her.”

  “I never said you did.”

  “But you’re looking at me like you think I did.” Biff looked around as if he were worried the people walking past also believed he had something to do with Maren’s death.

  “You were with a young woman that day. Very young from where I was sitting. Is she your girlfriend?”

  “She’s no one.”

  “No one had you and Maren in her sights the whole time. The reason I know this is because at first, I thought she was glaring at me. But it turned out she was glaring at Maren. Why?”

  “You know how young girls are.” He muttered, rubbing hi
s hands together.

  “I do. That’s why I’m asking if she had anything to do with slipping Maren some belladonna. Do you think so?”

  “No.” Sweat was starting to form on Biff’s forehead. He was bouncing his right leg nervously.

  “What is her name?”

  “Why do you want to know Esma’s name?”

  Beth was right. Biff was not the brightest bulb on the tree.

  “I saw you and Maren slip upstairs for a few minutes before she fell ill. Do you know if she was feeling sick before you went up there?”

  “You know, I think I’ve had enough.” Biff stood up. “You don’t just invite someone to meet you and start asking all kinds of questions. It’s sick.”

  Georgie leaned back and studied Biff’s behavior. His hands were clenching and he kept licking at his lips like they’d suddenly gone chapped.

  “Biff, I just want to know what happened to Maren.”

  “Well, you didn’t show me a badge and I don’t see a gun and I don’t think those weird shoes are police issue. So you can just forget getting any more information from me.” He turned and headed back in the direction he’d come from, pulling his phone from his back pocket. Walking with his head down and shoulders hunched so he could focus on the screen, he disappeared down the sidewalk.

  Normally, Georgie would have had a few choice words for a man making fun of her accessories. But, considering that Biff was shaking before he stood up and stormed away she kept her clever retorts to herself.

  “You chased that one away quickly.” Aleta said.

  “That was a very weird conversation. He admitted that he didn’t poison Maren.” Georgie said. “Cross him off the list of suspects then, right?”

  “Of course. Only an innocent person would say they didn’t do it.”

  “You know what I need?”

  Aleta shook her head as she looked at her sister.

  “Some Italian ice. That will help me think.”

  “Excellent idea. I’m glad I thought of it.” Aleta bumped her sister with her hip as they walked up to the order window of Pop’s Place.

  ONCE BACK HOME GEORGIE decided to do a little digging on this young woman Biff said is no one before giving her first name.

  “How many people can have the first name Esma?” She typed the name in Facebook. Her assessment was correct. Only seven people popped up. The first one had a very familiar photo attached to it.

  “There you are Esma Russo.” She studied her profile. Esma Russo lived just a short jaunt from Beth in the neighboring town of Oak Park. She skimmed her profile and was surprised to see there were photos of her and Biff on the site. They went back several weeks. From the looks of things Georgie would say that Esma was a little more than “no one”.

  She extended a friend invitation with a note that said Spoke to Biff. Can we talk?

  “I won’t sit and wait for an answer.” She said to Bodhi. He was busy chewing on a giant knuckle-bone Aleta had picked up for him a few days ago. “How about we make ourselves a pizza and watch some television, Bodhi?” The dog kept chewing.

  Chapter 8

  “It is a hot one tonight.” Aleta said as she walked across the grass to join Georgie on her stoop. She knew her sister would be there. During the summer months Georgie loved to sit on her stoop in her retro lawn chairs she’d painted bright red. As the sun set she’d wave to the people walking by, sometimes sketch in her sketchbook and just enjoy the heat before retreating into her home to the comfort of air conditioning. Tonight was one of those perfect nights.

  “You said it. That’s why I’ve got the ice tea waiting for you.” She handed her sister a tall glass.

  “And I’ve got punks waiting for you.” Aleta said and handed her sister a packet of incense. “This will keep the mosquitos away.

  “Punks. I haven’t heard that term in so long.”

  “Do you remember when we were kids and mom and dad had those big Fourth of July parties?”

  “Those were fun. They’d have them catered with roast beef and coleslaw.”

  “Yeah, but they’d only have watermelon for dessert.”

  “The only time they failed as parents.”

  “Cousin Marty always brought those little fireworks. He’d use punks to light the fuses. And we used to wave them around really fast when it got dark so the glowing tip would make a circle.”

  “And sometimes we’d light cattails like that, too. That was so exciting because they were so much bigger. But they burned just like the punks did. “

  “Those were the days.” Aleta chuckled and lit one with a packet of matches she pulled from her pocket.

  The smoke from the little sticks incense curled up and around itself going higher and higher into the air. Its smoky smell was exotic yet familiar to both women and for a moment they were both kids again at their family home.

  “We never used these at any other time, did we?” Georgie asked.

  “Not that I can remember.”

  “Funny how such a simple thing leaves such a deep impression.”

  “Speaking of impressions. Find out anything about Biff’s Lolita?”

  “She’s not that young. And her name is Esma. But actually, yes I did.”

  Georgie explained what she found online and how she’d reached out to the girl the same way she had done with Biff.

  “He’ll probably warn her about you.” Aleta took a sip of tea.

  “Maybe. I’m hoping that if she’s the jealous type curiosity will get the best of her and she’ll reply.” Georgie studied the package the incense came in and reached for her glasses. Telling Aleta to wait a minute Georgie went into her house. She came back out with a scowl on her face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t find my reading glasses.”

  “Do you remember where you had them last?”

  “Nope.”

  “They’ll pop up. When you least expect it.”

  “Speaking of things popping up when you least expect it.” Georgie pointed to the truck that had just pulled in the driveway. When the engine cut off Georgie yelled to the driver. “Stan, haven’t you ever heard of a phone?”

  “I figured you’d be outside tonight. Aleta, how are you?”

  “I’m doing fine Stan. I have a question for you. If a man and woman slip away for a few minutes and come back with their clothes inside out...”

  ‘Whoa! Whoa! Georgie, what on earth have you been telling your sister.”

  “Not nearly as much as you just did.” Georgie rolled her eyes. “Wait here and I’ll get another glass. I’m assuming you’d like some iced tea.”

  “I think I better. Someone needs to stop you from telling all our secrets.”

  Georgie stomped into the house shutting the door against Aleta and Stan’s hoots of laughter. Normally she’d be a good sport, but Stan had been dropping by so often that she was beginning to feel as if he was taking advantage of her.

  When they were married she was a good wife. She took her responsibilities around the house and with the kids seriously. She always felt she treated Stan as a man with just the right amount of honey when he wanted it and vinegar when he needed it. He’d never said anything to the contrary.

  But those days were over. And no matter how diplomatic she tried to be he just couldn’t get it through his head that he needed to respect her independence.

  “I blame the police department.” She muttered as she pulled a glass down from the top cabinet over her sink. “He’s used to molding and kneading people to get the kind of answers he wants and he’s trying to use those same tactics on me. He can’t help himself.” She went to the freezer and dropped in a couple ice cubes.

  As she approached the door she was shocked that there was no talking. It wasn’t like Stan to sit quietly with Aleta. Those two were the biggest gossips in the county.

  “Just like with Bodhi, when it’s quiet I know there’s trouble. What are you two...”

  “Good evening, Georgie.” Obby said offer
ing her a bouquet of pastel colored roses.

  “Hi, Obby. These are beautiful.” She gushed. “Thank you.”

  Just then Stan cleared his throat.

  “Obby, you remember my ex-husband Stan. Of course, you know Aleta.”

  “Yes, I remember Stan.” Now it was Obby turn to clear his throat. “I remembered as I was taking my evening walk that you said on these hot, humid nights that you liked to sit on your porch. I thought I’d take a chance and see if you were out.”

  “That’s so sweet of you. I’ve got some sun tea that was baking all day. Would you like a glass?” Georgie looked at Stan who was studying Obby as if he was sure he had seen his face on an FBI Most Wanted poster in the Post Office.

  “I would indeed. That will be just the hydration I need for the journey back home.”

  “Of course. Aleta, why don’t you come help me see if we’ve got anything for a cool snack.”

  “I’d love to.” She followed Georgie into the house. Once there she stepped to the side and pressed her ear in the direction of the door.

  “What are you doing?” Georgie asked.

  “I want to hear who makes the first move. My money is on Stan.”

  “Get away from the door. Both of those guys are mature adults. Besides, there isn’t anything they need to make moves about.”

  “You might see it that way but I don’t think they do.” Aleta chuckled. “And look at how you’re dressed. You are just asking for it.”

  Georgie looked down at her comfy, baggy white shirt and loose fitting cotton pants that dragged on the floor when she wore them in her bare feet.

  “Right, I’m a real temptress.” She clawed the air like a cat making her sister laugh some more.

  Within a few minutes they returned to the front porch with a tray of crackers, grape tomatoes, sliced cucumbers, fresh strawberries and some store-bought sugar cookies.

  “What are you guys doing?” Georgie gasped. Stan had his right sleeve rolled up to the shoulder and Obby had his shirt unbuttoned to his navel and pulled to the left.

  “I was just showing Stan the scar I’d received from a stingray that I happened upon during a vacation to Aruba.”