Murder at the Pool Party

by Sandi Scott

  “Okaaay,” Georgie dragged the word out and wrinkled her nose, “ and Stan, you’re doing what?”

  “You remember when I got jumped investigating that drug murder. I was just showing Obby.” He looked at Georgie as if he was doing nothing more than chatting about the weather. “But, hey, you should see the other guy.” He chuckled at his own lame joke.

  “Why don’t you guys get your clothes back on and come have a snack.”

  Georgie shot daggers at Stan. She knew the scar display was his idea. She would have liked to see his face when Obby said I’ll see your knife scar and raise you a stingray attack.

  Despite a rocky start, the evening was an agreeable one. Stan and Obby continued a game of pleasantries that was as fake as the “pleather” elf shoes Georgie had been wearing earlier. Their tempers seemed to mellow as a cool breeze swept over everything. There was nothing worse for a man than a dilemma on a hot, humid night.

  “Georgie, I hope you enjoy the blooms. I’ve got to get back.”

  “I will, Obby. Thank you so much.” She stood and gave him a hug, keeping her eye on Stan. He looked at his watch then out onto the street. “It was nice of you to stop by.”

  He said good-bye to Aleta and gave Stan a hearty handshake that Georgie could plainly see was tighter than normal. Both their wrists and knuckles bulged with tension.

  Once Obby was out of hearing range Georgie turned to Stan.

  “Isn’t it about time you go home?”

  “What? I was just waiting for him to leave. I wasn’t going to be the first one to bail out.”

  “Stan, if I’ve told you once I’ve told you a hundred times you need to call before you come over. You are not my husband anymore. You aren’t my boyfriend, either.”

  Aleta had been enjoying their playful banter but those last few words stung even her. She looked at Stan. His face was stunned.

  “Georgie.” He took a step closer to her. “I was just playing with the guy. He went right along with me. There was no harm done.”

  “Really? My ex-husband showing off fifteen-year-old scars and flexing his muscles. Maybe you and Obby should go on a date together since you’re both more interested in impressing each other.”

  Georgie stormed inside the house.

  Stan turned to Aleta.

  “She’s right, Stan.” She patted him gently on the shoulder. “You were a great brother-in-law. But you should know Georgie by now. It isn’t about what you want. It’s about what she wants.”

  “Aleta, I want to give her everything she wants. Doesn’t she know that?”

  “Don’t you know what she wants now is a little freedom?”

  Aleta left Stan standing on the porch. She went inside and closed the door, locking it behind her.

  “Is he sulking? I hate it when he sulks. It’s like seeing John Wayne cry. There’s something unnatural about it.” Georgie asked.

  “He might be. But Georgie, he should. Showing their scars?”

  “What happened? I was only in the house for a few seconds.”

  “I couldn’t tell you. One minute we were talking about the weather the next thing I know those guys are ready to strip in the front yard to compare war wounds.”

  Georgie started to laugh.

  “I was afraid if they got down to their skivvies you know what the next thing to compare would be.” Aleta reported with a straight face as Georgie howled.

  “I don’t know what kind of perfume you are wearing, Georgie, but you might want to scale back on it. Maybe don’t use any perfume at all. In fact, maybe you should just skip bathing all together. These guys already know you clean up real nice. Maybe give them a glance at the blank canvas. You’ve got to do something!”

  “Maybe you are right.” Georgie wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes.

  “But...” Aleta continued.

  “But what?”

  “I would have never guessed it. I guess I never really thought about it but those two men are in excellent shape for guys their age. I don’t know if you could see it from where you were standing but Obby has quite a chiseled torso.”

  “Aleta, you were sneaking a peek?”

  “How could I not?”

  “I didn’t know that.” Georgie shrugged as she pressed a few keys on her computer that she left on the kitchen table. “Hey, look at this. I got an IM from Esma Russo.”

  “God bless you.”

  “I didn’t sneeze. That’s her name. Esma Russo.”

  “Who is she?”

  “The Tart from the party.”

  “Really?” Aleta pulled up a chair and looked at the instant message. “She wants to meet you at Third Coast Café. That’s over in Oak Park, isn’t it?”

  “Yup. She lives there.”

  “I better go with. She may end up being one of those Fatal Attraction kinds of women. Jealousy makes them crazy, literally.”

  “No. I’ll go by myself. We’ve been to this place. It is on a busy street with tons of foot traffic. Plus, they have a very limited dessert selection. You won’t be missing anything.”

  “Okay, but if I don’t hear back from you I’m sending Stan and Obby to find you for me.”

  “That would be like a geriatric Lethal Weapon revamp.”

  Aleta howled with laughter.

  Chapter 9

  Third Coast Café reminded Georgie of the images of cafes in movies. It was empty during the day with the exception of a couple of men playing backgammon, smoking clove cigarettes and the occasional older couple enjoying a coffee and slice of cheesecake.

  But come eight o’clock in the evening the place was alive with young couples that were either just starting their evening or getting off work at the nearby boutiques and shops.

  Georgie was happy to be there with the early group. The tables were mostly empty. She took a seat next to the window not far from the men playing backgammon. She watched the game with interest as the men smack-talked each other. They were happy to have an audience and Georgie was happy for the distraction.

  It wasn’t long before Esma arrived. She was wearing very tight pants and a shirt that left little room for imagination. The backgammon game came to a halt as she walked in.

  “Yoo hoo!” Georgie waved.

  Esma stopped for a minute then slowly approached the table.

  “Have a seat, Esma. Would you like a coffee? Stay away from the desserts here. Day old at the corner grocery store tastes better.”

  “Tell me what you want. I don’t have all day.” Esma said before crossing her arms in front of her. Georgie wanted to start laughing.

  “Sure you do, honey. Take a seat.” Georgie waved over the waiter. “Coffee?”

  “No. Just water.” Esma eased herself into the empty chair across from Georgie. She was clenching her jaw. Her body was wound so tight any second Georgie was afraid she might rupture a blood vessel in her neck. “So, what is this all about?”

  “It’s about Maren Ingrid.” Georgie watched Esma instantly tenses up even more.

  “What about her?”

  “Why were you at the party at Beth’s house? It was for people over fifty years old and you obviously are not even close to being forty let alone over fifty?”

  “I don’t really think it’s any of your business why I was there or who I came with.”

  “I saw you talking with Biff. You spoke with him just before he went upstairs with Maren. I don’t know what they did up there but when Maren came back downstairs she was getting sick.”

  “It was probably something she ate.” Esma snickered. “Vegetarians are weird.”

  “I agree. And it was something she ate. Belladonna.”

  “What is that?”

  “It’s a poisonous berry. How did you know Maren was a vegetarian?”

  Esma pouted her lips like a fish. Her long lashes fluttered a few times.

  “I came to the party with her.”

  Georgie didn’t see that coming. She smirked and leaned forward on her elbows. Before she could c
oax Esma to tell her more, the young woman started to talk on her own.

  “Okay, Maren lives a few doors down from me.”

  “Is that how you met Biff?”

  Esma’s cheeks blushed and she smiled a little.

  “A couple of months ago he and Maren had an argument. She threw him out of her house and he didn’t have any way to get back to his apartment.” She picked at her fingernails and didn’t look up. “He knocked on my door and asked me to help him.”

  “A strange man knocks on your door to tell you his girlfriend threw him out and he needs a lift home? You were okay with this?” Georgie asked.

  “You’ve seen Biff. He’s good-looking and built. He’s clean cut and I just really got a good vibe from him.

  How many women thought the same thing about Ted Bundy? Georgie was shocked.

  “So, I invited him in and we talked.” Esma said this as if it was as normal and natural as breathing. “He didn’t live that far so I agreed to drive him home. He told me all about Maren. I knew they had a fling together but that it was over. At least, I thought if she threw him out of her house it was over.”

  “But?”

  “He wasn’t dating her.” Esma insisted. “She was too busy looking for a millionaire to clamp down on. She was all about money. Even though Biff is well off he wasn’t the kind of guy Maren was going to settle for. He wasn’t rich enough.”

  “How did you learn this?”

  “Biff told me.”

  Of course he did. He also referred to you as no one. Georgie wanted to shake Esma but kept her cool and let the girl keep talking.

  “Sometimes, when he’d come to my house we’d see Maren out in her yard. he’d wave, and I didn’t want to look jealous or anything so I’d wave, too.”

  “But you were jealous.”

  “Maybe a little.” She rolled her eyes. “Biff didn’t want me telling anyone we were together. I assumed it was because of the age difference. Then he told me that he wanted us to have a more open relationship. To know if we were really right for each other.”

  “I see.” Please tell me you didn’t fall for that? That line is as old as the hills. Georgie fidgeted in her seat.

  “That makes sense, right?” Esma looked for validation but just got a blank stare from Georgie.

  You poor girl.

  Georgie used all of her strength to refrain from slapping Esma across the face. Each comment she made sounded dumber than the previous one. But she didn’t think Esma was lying. Unfortunately, it all sounded like the truth.

  “So, when Biff invited me to the party at Beth’s I accepted. But when I did, he told me that I should go with Maren since she was going, too.”

  “How did that make you feel?”

  “I don’t know.” Esma took a drink of water. “Maren didn’t act like there was anything going on between her and Biff. But that’s what made me think there was something going on between them.”

  “Did you talk to Maren about Biff?”

  “When I brought up his name she just laughed and waved her hand like he was a joke and she’d just remembered the punch-line. I didn’t like that.”

  “Why? Did you want her to be interested in Biff?”

  “No. But I didn’t want her laughing at him either.” She took a deep breath. “You know what they say. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. So I asked to tag along to the party and she agreed to drive me. Biff drove me home and spent the night at my house. So, I guess I won.”

  “Well, Maren died. You had sort of an unfair advantage being alive and all.”

  Esma pursed her lips and looked out the window. She didn’t grasp Georgie’s remark. It sailed right over her head.

  “I don’t know what else you want me to tell you.”

  “Esma, you’ve been very helpful and I appreciate your taking the time to talk to me like this. I guess I should let you get back to whatever it is you need to do. Can I give you a lift?”

  “I’d appreciate that.” Esma smiled for the first time but Georgie was sure it was a show for the backgammon players who watched her pull herself from her seat and strut toward the exit.

  “This is a cute car.” Esma said. “I just have an old beater. It isn’t much but it gets me back and forth to work.”

  “Where’s work?”

  “Angelos. I’m a hostess and sometimes bartender. It’s just on the other side of town. I could take the bus but I’m required to dress nicely and sometimes I don’t get home until well after midnight. It’s safer if I drive myself.”

  Georgie followed Esma’s directions. Within minutes they were in front of her house. It was a cute domicile that was nothing extravagant but certainly fancier than the meager earnings a hostess could pay for. Her car was in the driveway.

  “I know what you’re thinking. How do I afford it on a hostess job.”

  “Oh, no, Esma. It’s none of my business.” As soon as those words left Georgie’s mouth she realized how stupid they sounded. Especially after grilling her about her relationship with Biff and Maren and on and on.

  “It’s okay. Let’s just say Maren isn’t the only one with a couple of well off boyfriends. I don’t ask for anything. They just give me presents. Money. You know.”

  “It’s your life.” Georgie replied. “Thank you for talking with me Esma. Be careful out there. Don’t let anymore guys in your house if you know their girlfriend has kicked them out.”

  As Esma climbed out the car she seemed sorry she’d told Georgie so much. She shut the door without another word. Still trying to appear cool and sexy, she slinked to her door, but her steps were quicker and her head was tilted down.

  “I’m sure those guys who give you money just enjoy your company and want to hear your thoughts on world events and maybe a few financial tips.” Georgie said to the steering wheel. Esma thought she was really smart and the first woman an older man ever flattered. “If I had a nickel for every sugar-daddy that approached me when I was that age I’d be rich.” Just as she was pulling out of the driveway she noticed the shrubs that lined the edge of the property.

  “Esma acted like she didn’t know what belladonna was. Yet, here it is growing in the front of her house.” She slowly backed the car up. The lush green triangular leaves were a beautiful compliment to the purple bell-shaped flowers. But it was the deep, rich purple berries that were the main attraction. The bushes were loaded with them. As Georgie slowly pulled away from Esma’s house she realized that the belladonna bushes were growing wild in almost everyone’s yard.

  There was a man closer to Georgie’s age that was standing at the edge of his driveway sweeping stones and dried cut grass into the street.

  “Excuse me.” Georgie interrupted. The man squinted through thick glasses and slowly approached the orange Volkswagen.

  “Do you happen to know which house Maren Ingrid lives in?”

  “Yes.” He turned to the right and pointed to a Cape Cod style home. It was perfectly manicured with well-tended flower gardens and perfectly sculpted bushes. “She’s not home, though.”

  Georgie looked at the man.

  “She passed away. Saw it in the obituaries. I read those every day so I know if I’ve outlived my enemies.”

  “I can’t imagine a man as handsome as yourself has any enemies.” Georgie replied without skipping a beat. “Yes, I’d heard she passed. Do you know how long she lived here?”

  The man scratched his head for a minute looking up at the sky then across the street and finally down at Georgie.

  “At least five years.”

  “Really. Well, that’s a real shame she’s gone. It looks like she liked flowers.” Belladonna plants were also in her yard.

  “What’s your relation to her?”

  “Just a friend. We actually just met and I liked her. But I didn’t know her all that well.”

  “Me neither. But I kinda like the looks of you. Care to come in for a cup of coffee? My wife’s not home.” He chuckled.

  “Now what would
she say if she knew you were inviting strange women into your home?”

  “She’d probably say if you want him he’s yours.”

  Georgie laughed as she waved good-bye and drove out of Oak Park back home.

  Georgie thought of Maren’s manicured nails and gold rings. There was no way she was a gardener. “So that means she had people taking care of her yard and they knew what belladonna was even if she didn’t.” Georgie said aloud to Pablo as she drove, “They would have said don’t eat the berries. She seemed smart. She probably wouldn’t just eat strange berries.”

  The idea that Maren ingested belladonna berries that are growing all around her house was unlikely. That means she had to eat them accidentally some other way.

  As Georgie drove she compared the stories from Biff and Esma.

  “Their whole story sounds screwy but...” She tapped the steering wheel as she drove. “I don’t think Esma was lying. She’s too young to make that stuff up. She might be exaggerating. But I think there is a kernel of truth to her story. Biff? I don’t know.”

  Aleta would be the person to talk this over with. She might see something Georgie missed.

  “HAVE YOU SPOKEN TO anyone who is on the singles site?” Aleta asked. Georgie arrived back home with a bag of caramels she picked up at the Dollar Store along with some cheap paintbrushes she needed for a new project.

  Georgie shook her head no. Her teeth were stuck together from the caramel.

  “I’d start there.” Aleta snatched up another caramel and pulled off the plastic wrap. “You said you saw Biff’s picture with a couple of different ladies on Beth’s computer. You know at least one of them will talk.”

  “Goo ida.” Georgie muttered.

  “What?”

  Georgie chewed a little more, then swallowed and cleared her throat.

  “Good idea. This caramel is really good but it’s so chewy.”

  “At the Dollar Store you don’t know how long it has been sitting there.”

  “Thank goodness for preservatives.” Georgie said as she helped herself to another golden colored cube. “That’s what keeps me so young and good-looking.”