A Taste of Death

by Suzanne Rossi

  Puzzled, Anne closed the folder and opened the one titled “Deliveries.”

  This list covered the past ten months. Notations beside each delivery date included numbers, each one different. She had no clue what they meant. The number of items delivered, maybe? And the same delivery company was used—Rodriguez Moving out of Miami.

  I could swear someone told me that George traveled all over the state and elsewhere to find merchandise. So why would a moving company out of Miami be delivering something bought in Northern Florida or out of state?

  Her sense of logic and order said they wouldn’t.

  The last folder contained the “Special Orders” list. Just names and items—Roscoe Larkin, 2 steamer trunks; Armando Sanchez, urn; Willie Sanders, urn; Chico Diaz, bookcase.

  Okay, I suppose it must have made sense to someone.

  Still it was odd.

  Anne picked up the sheet of paper at the bottom of the pile. The heading merely said “Received” and “Paid” along with a list of numbers she assumed were prices and costs. The date on the print out showed it had been rendered a week ago. Right after Fran’s death.

  “Six thousand in, six hundred out; four thousand in, four hundred out; ten thousand in, one thousand out,” Anne repeated out loud, reading from the list. “Ten percent each time.”

  She closed the folder and tapped her fingers on the table, then rose and went into the garage where she slid them under the driver’s seat in her car along with the other folder from Fran’s house. After the break-in, she didn’t trust her office.

  Maybe I’ll tell Gil about them. I could always say I got them at Fran’s with the rest of the chapter business. That way, he won’t get mad at me again even though swiping the files was stupid.

  The front door opened and closed again with a thud. Anne’s heart rate accelerated until she heard Lisa call out.

  “Mom, we’re home.”

  She hurried into the foyer to hug her kids. “Goodness, you’re home earlier than I expected. Is your father coming in?”

  Ken shook his head as he turned for the stairs. “Naw, he and Paula wanted to get back to Orlando.”

  “Did you have a good time?”

  “It was a quiet weekend,” he answered. “We went to a museum yesterday and took in a movie last night.”

  “That sounds like fun.” She gazed at her daughter. “Are you all right? You look a bit pale.”

  Lisa shrugged. “My nose is all stuffed up and I’ve got a little sore throat. A lot of kids at school have colds or the flu.”

  “Oh dear, do you feel like eating dinner? I was going to make chicken parmesan.”

  “Yeah, I’m hungry, just tired.”

  “Okay, you guys unpack and bring down your dirty laundry while I get dinner started.”

  Anne was making the salad when Ken came into the kitchen with an armload of dirty clothes and headed for the laundry room. A moment later the sound of water gushing into the washing machine made her grateful she’d taught her kids how to do things for themselves.

  “So, how did your weekend go?” Ken asked as he returned and grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge.

  She hesitated. Should she tell them about the break-in? She didn’t want to worry her children, but at the same time they had a right to know.

  “Not the best,” she replied and told him the details of Saturday evening.

  “You’re kidding? Was anything taken?”

  “As far as I can tell nothing is missing. Since they only hit my office and bedroom, I have to assume the thieves were looking for jewelry or cash. Most of my good stuff is in the bank and as we all know, I have no cash on hand.”

  “I’ll bet it was a bunch of punks from the area who know who lives here. They also know Lisa and I have nothing of value and made straight for your rooms. The Johannsons over on Seabreeze Drive were burglarized about a month ago. Come to think of it, one of the kids at school said they’d had an incident of someone stealing stuff from their garage.”

  “I never thought to ask Gil if there’d been a rash of break-ins in the neighborhood. Certainly, I never heard of any.”

  “Never heard of any what?” Lisa asked walking by with her laundry. She dumped it on the laundry room floor and also snatched a bottle of water from the fridge.

  Anne told her what had happened.

  Lisa’s reaction was immediate. “Oh my God! My jewelry! I didn’t think to look…”

  “Relax, they only tossed Mom’s room and office. Besides, who’d want that junk you wear?”

  “It is not junk. Some of it’s kinda nice.”

  “Gimme a break.”

  “Whoa, time out, you two. Gil said he’d have a patrol car cruise by every once in a while. I’m sure it was just kids. Probably saw me leave, came up, rang the doorbell, and when no one answered, took advantage of the situation.”

  “How’d they get in?” Lisa asked.

  “Jacked up the sliding glass door. Gil put it back on track, but I have to call the repair man in the morning. The lock is damaged, plus I’m going to have a pin installed at the top.”

  Both of her kids’ heads swiveled to the breakfast area.

  “Geez, it doesn’t look any different,” Ken said.

  “I didn’t see anything wrong when I came in from the garage with the groceries, either. Now, do you have any homework to finish? If so, then I suggest you get it done before dinner.”

  Ken and Lisa left the room, giving Anne a chance to call Gil. He answered on the third ring.

  “Great minds think alike. I was just going to call you. Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, it’s fine. Kids just got home.” She told him about the other families being burglarized. “Is there a problem in the neighborhood?”

  “Not that I know of, but I’ll check.”

  “What happened with the waiter’s car?”

  “The kids, one sixteen, the other seventeen, claim they found it on a side street near a stop and rob on West Sixty-Fourth Street. Not the nicest of neighborhoods.”

  “Found it?”

  “Said it was around one-thirty in the morning and they were on their way home from the convenience store when they came around the corner and saw this nice-looking car parked a few feet away. Nice-looking cars aren’t the norm for that area. So, they tried the doors. They were unlocked and the keys were in the ignition. Had a wonderful time for a week.”

  “And nobody noticed they suddenly had wheels?” she asked.

  “Claim they parked it in the alley behind the seventeen-year-old’s house and their so-called friends never questioned its appearance.”

  “Do you believe them?”

  “Yeah, they have no connection to Jeffrey Wainwright or to drugs, although we did find a small baggie of weed on the one kid when they were arrested.”

  “Would you like to come over for dinner tonight?”

  “Can’t tonight. How about tomorrow?”

  “Deal.”

  “You sure you’re all right? I could sleep on the sofa if you’re scared.”

  Anne cast a quick glance down the hallway and lowered her voice. “I’m not scared. The kids are home now. And if you sleep over, I don’t want it on the sofa.”

  Gil laughed before hanging up.

  While making dinner, she thought about Wainwright’s car.

  The guy with Wainwright panics when the waiter dies, takes the car, drives it to a location he knows is unsafe, leaves it unlocked and the keys in the ignition in the hope someone steals it. And then what? He walks home? And what about his car? Did he come back later to retrieve it? He had to have come in some vehicle. Had he parked it at the house next door? Maybe he used public transportation.

  She walked to the foot of the stairs and called out, “Dinner’s ready.”

  As she served up the meal, another thought crossed her mind. I wonder if he lives in that neighborhood.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Are you sure you feel well enough to go to school?” Anne asked he
r daughter the next morning.

  “I don’t feel real good, but not so bad that I have to stay at home,” Lisa replied. “Besides, I have a history test on Thursday and don’t want to miss a lecture.”

  Ken clomped down the stairs. “Come on, let’s go, the bus will be here any second.”

  When the kids left, Anne poured a second cup of coffee, called a repairman for the sliding glass door, and then went upstairs to her office determined to get another scene written if it killed her. As she settled at her desk, her gaze fell on Gary the Gargoyle.

  “The least you could have done was fall off the shelf or something and scare the intruder away,” she told it before turning her attention back to the computer.

  After two hours, she rose and paced the floor trying to untangle a plot problem. Ten minutes later, she still had no answers. Her phone ringing gave her a much needed diversion. It was Jen.

  “Hey, Anne, how goes it?”

  “I’ve been better.”

  “What’s wrong now?”

  Anne hesitated. She hadn’t seen Jen in over two weeks. In fact, the group hadn’t been together in longer than that. While she didn’t have anything for critique, she could use their input on what was in those folders.

  “Jen, are you available for lunch today at my house?”

  “Sure. I missed talking to you guys and not being in on what the Snoop Group is doing. What time?”

  “Eleven-thirty sound all right?”

  “Great. See you then.”

  As soon as she hung up, Anne called Nancy and Rose. Nancy was available and Rose promised to find a sitter for the kids.

  A quick inspection of her pantry told her lunch would have to be basic.

  Surprisingly, Rose was the first to arrive with a big grin on her face.

  “You are now looking at an emancipated mother—at least for two days of the week. Thanks to a new Mother’s Day Out program at the church, I am free to pursue whatever I want on Monday’s and Thursdays from ten until two.”

  Anne laughed. “I see lots of writing in your future.”

  “And grocery shopping. Do you know what it’ll be like to go to the store and not have to deal with a toddler and a baby?”

  Jen and Nancy arrived simultaneously. They all gravitated into the kitchen where the menu consisted of soup, chicken salad sandwiches, chips, and cookies for dessert.

  “So, Jen, how’s your mother?” Nancy asked.

  “Much better. I didn’t really have to be there, but Dad on his own is a disaster. My husband and kids on their own are disasters, too. I spent the entire weekend doing laundry and cleaning the place. Honestly, you’d think someone would have thought to dust or run the vacuum cleaner while I was gone. What’s been going on here—other than Fran getting offed?”

  “For starters, Nancy has a boyfriend,” Rose said with a chuckle.

  “What?”

  “Yep, it’s Gil’s younger brother, Brad. He deals with volcanoes.”

  “Volcanoes?” Jen squeaked turning her gaze on Nancy. “Come on, out with it.”

  Nancy shot them all a look of exasperation while Anne grinned inwardly.

  “Blame Anne. We met here, hit it off, and are seeing each other while he’s in San Sebastian. I doubt anything will come of it beyond that.”

  “Volcanoes?” Jen repeated, sipping iced tea.

  “He’s a volcanologist. It’s really kind of fascinating—not that I understand much of what he does.”

  “Why don’t you think anything will come of it?” Rose asked spooning soup into her mouth.

  “Because last night he got a call about rumblings on some south seas island. He may be leaving soon.”

  “Rumblings?” Anne said.

  “As in earthquakes or whatever. I guess that’s a precursor of things to come. And I’m tired of talking about this. What is going on, Anne? Anything new on Fran?”

  Anne spent the rest of the lunch bring everyone up to date on events, including her excursion to Fran’s shop, and the break-in.

  Nancy frowned. “I can see someone rummaging through your bedroom looking for stuff, but why your office?”

  “Cash, maybe?” Anne replied.

  “If I’m going to keep cash on hand, I keep it in an old teapot on my kitchen windowsill,” Rose said. “That way if I’m going out and need some money, it’s handy.”

  “Wonder why they didn’t toss the rest of the house,” Jen added. “I mean, why just target those two rooms?”

  “Maybe Bruno barked and scared them off,” Nancy said.

  “Bruno was hiding under an end table in the living room. He probably dived there as soon as the thief opened the door,” Anne answered. “Anything new on the chapter’s financial situation, Nancy?”

  She shook her head. “I turned everything over to Mavis Holloway’s son last Wednesday. While he suspects there’s going to be a lot of money unaccounted for, he also thinks we’re not in too bad a shape.”

  Anne breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, thank God for small favors.”

  “My advice is to hold that special election within the next week. You have several qualified candidates. No sense in letting Susan get a foothold,” Nancy added.

  “Good idea. I’ll call Kathy and Ellie. Maybe we can set it up for later in the week. Rose, what about you?”

  “I’ve been going over the correspondence. Some of it is really nasty on Fran’s part and I don’t see any reason to keep it,” Rose told them.

  “Fran was a real piece of work,” Jen stated. “From your experience the other day, I’d have to say so is George. I mean, seriously? Letting go a perfectly nice woman who’d worked at the shop for several years, and then replacing her with some rude asshole must have Fran turning in her grave.”

  “I’m more interested in those folders you heisted,” Nancy said. “Let’s have a look and see if we can come up with anything new.”

  Anne rose. “They’re under the driver’s seat in my car.”

  “Why are they there?” Rose asked.

  “I was going to toss them, but decided I’d just hand them over to Gil—minus the part about how I got them. And they’re in the car because I didn’t trust keeping them in the house after the break-in.”

  She retrieved the folders and set them on the kitchen table. Everybody reached for one and opened it as Anne cleaned up from lunch.

  “Something about this inventory thing is weird,” Jen said a few minutes later. “I’ve worked retail before and this reads like something you’d find stored in a closet.”

  “How so?” Rose asked.

  “For starters, it’s a short list. I’ve been in Fran’s shop and, trust me, it’s chocked full of merchandise. If you take inventory, you take inventory of the whole store.”

  Anne shrugged. “She had vendors, so she wouldn’t bother with those things. She’d only list what was hers. But you’re right, that strikes me as odd, too.”

  “Could be an inventory of items that came in recently,” Nancy commented. “Maybe George entered them into a computer with existing merchandise.”

  “What are all these numbers next to the delivery dates?” Rose questioned.

  “I have no idea,” Anne replied.

  “Let me see,” Nancy said reading for a few seconds. “Beats me. I wonder why it’s the same delivery company for all.”

  Anne leaned forward. “I asked myself the same question when I saw it. Why would you have someone from Miami deliver goods if you bought them in Jacksonville?”

  “Perhaps Fran or her husband knew the owners and got a deal for using them or the company has branches throughout the state,” Rose added.

  Nancy riffled through some papers. “Did the special orders listed here coordinate with the inventory?” She picked up Jen’s list. “Hmmm, some of them show up, but not all. I suppose a customer could come in and request say, a steamer trunk, then Fran would tell George to keep his eye out for one the next time he went on a buying trip.”

  “You know, for someone as m
eticulous as Fran, this all looks sloppy,” Jen added.

  “It’s this last sheet that I find interesting,” Nancy said. “It says here, ‘received, six thousand dollars’ and next to it is ‘paid, six hundred.’ Does that mean they paid six hundred for an item, then turned around and sold it for six grand?”

  “Wow, that’s one hell of a profit,” Rose exclaimed.

  “And what was the item?” Nancy continued. “You’d think if you just received six big ones for some merchandise, you’d list what it was.”

  “I have an idea,” Jen chimed in with a grin. “Let’s take a road trip to Fran’s Fabulous Finds. We go in and ask for items on the inventory and see what happens.”

  Anne shook her head. “No thanks. I’ve been in there two too many times.”

  “And I have to pick up the kids from the care group,” Rose said with a glance at her watch.

  “How about it, Nancy, wanna go?”

  “Sure, why not. When?”

  “Now, of course.” Jen jotted a short list on a notepad, and then handed it to Nancy. “You can ask for these items and I’ll take the others.”

  “What can it hurt?” she replied rising.

  They all trooped into the foyer.

  “Be careful what you say in the store,” Anne reminded them. “That new guy is a not real nice.”

  “Don’t worry,” Jen told her. “We’ll be discreet.”

  Anne waved goodbye not sure if the word discreet was part of Jen’s vocabulary.

  ****

  “There, that should take care of things,” the repairman said.

  Anne inspected the sliding glass door. A pin lock had been installed at the top.

  “See, it’s on a chain so that when you’re not using it, the pin doesn’t get lost,” the man explained.

  She nodded then looked at the horizontal security bar attached midway along the frame. She decided it didn’t look too distracting.