Odds Against
(Margot and Odds Mystery – Book 2)
Copyright © December 2014, Audrey Claire
No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, distributed, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, without express written permission from the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.
This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or any events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story line are created from the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously.
OTHER WORKS AVAILABLE:
A Libby Grace Mystery
How to Be a Ghost
How to Blackmail a Ghost
How to Kill a Ghost
A Makayla Rose Mystery
Depth of Field
Multiple Exposures
Distortion Control (Coming Soon)
www.authoraudreyclaire.com
Chapter One
“Because I’m tired of cleaning toilets, that’s why,” Margot declared. She didn’t know why she was explaining it to the cat. He wasn’t hers anyway, and he didn’t have say in her job choices.
“It’s a bad idea.”
“Says you,” she retorted. “Of course you would think I shouldn’t do it. You’re a cat.”
She waited for him to declare she’d just told him the obvious, but Odds liked to make statements of his own with actions. Such as licking his paw and washing his ear with it, or staring at her blankly with those wide green eyes. Oh, he made her so mad sometimes.
“Are you listening to me, Odds?”
Meow.
“You don’t have to go, you know.” Margot pushed her feet into nice fluffy slippers and headed into the kitchen. She breathed in deep and smiled at the scent of coffee brewing. Nancy had taught her how to do it after she had purchased a coffeemaker.
Who knew such modern conveniences could be had at the push of a few buttons and setting timers? Here Lou had hired staff to do it. Okay, she missed Judy something awful, but she could still be proud of herself for learning one more way of taking care of herself.
Odds leaped to the table and tapped the newspaper with the tip of his tail. Margot reached into the cupboard to bring down a plate for him and one for her. Odds refused to eat cat food but preferred whatever she was having, and the cat dish she had wasted good money buying for him collected dust at the back of the cabinet.
“You can point it out all you want,” she told him. “I’m going to start walking dogs, and there’s nothing you can say that will change my mind.”
“Walk cats.”
“They have litter boxes.”
“Uncivilized.”
“You have a box.”
“Have you ever seen me use it?”
“You aren’t normal, are you?”
He squinted his eyes at her and looked away.
Margot paused in the act of bringing out eggs from the refrigerator. “Where do you go to the bathroom, Odds? You don’t scratch at the door to go out much. In fact, you sit in the window more often than anything, as if you’re waiting for a visitor.”
He yawned. That was another thing she disliked about the stubborn, bad cat. He ignored her whenever he wanted to, making her return to previous thoughts that she was just crazy, and he couldn’t truly talk.
“Odds!”
“In the Armitages’ plants.”
Margot shrieked. “You can’t be serious! They eat those.”
She thought she heard him snicker, and he jumped down from the table. “The other crazy lady is coming.”
A knock at the door sounded right after Odds said this, and Margot might have thought this was solid proof Odds spoke except that she heard Nancy humming a familiar tune. Someone was always chipper in the morning, unlike Margot before her coffee.
“Good morning, my dear,” Nancy boomed and shuffled past Margot when she opened the door. “Mm, I smell the coffee brewing.”
“Good morning, Nancy. Yes, I did just how you showed me, and for the first time I can offer you coffee in the morning.”
Margot felt herself beaming, and Nancy patted her arm. “That’s wonderful. Have you eaten, because I’ve already whipped together some scrambled eggs, pancakes, and sausages. If you want them, I can put some biscuits in the oven.”
Margot’s face fell. “Odds and I were going to have fried eggs. I just took them out.”
“With what, dear?”
“F-fried egg on t-toast.” Margot felt less and less proud. She hadn’t mastered cooking as yet and hadn’t taken Nancy up on the offer to teach her because she was trying to cover all her bills with the odd jobs she had taken on. New York was a very expensive city to live in, she was discovering.
Nancy hooked her arm through Margot’s. “Well good. Since you haven’t started you and Odds can join me. Come along, Odds,” she called as she all but dragged Margot to the door.
“Nancy, I’m not dressed,” Margot complained, and she didn’t have much in the way of strength either to resist. Her old bones took a while to unlock when she first rose, which was one of the reasons she wanted to take the dog-walking job, exercise.
“Pish-posh. I’m not dressed for an outing either, so it’s a good thing I’m just downstairs on the first floor.”
Margot took a hard look at Nancy this morning and realized contrary to what Nancy claimed, she was dressed for an outing, or rather an outing for Nancy. Her friend never failed to wear a housedress, a straight line of material that fell to just past her knees. The design was normally colorful with flowers either all over or just across the bosom and hem.
Today, Margot detected a crisp newness to the dress as if Nancy had starched and pressed it. Nary a curler hung from her hair as they often did, and she wore actual shoes on her feet rather than slippers. Margot had never seen Nancy leave the apartment building, so this was momentous.
Margot found the strength to free her arm from her friend’s grasp. “Nancy Shirley, what are you up to?”
Pink tinged Nancy’s cheeks, and she clasped her hands together. “Well, I wanted to wait until we were eating to mention it, but the new Super is finally here.”
“The new Super!”
Nancy pressed chubby fingers to her lips, nodding vigorously. “Can you believe it, Margot?”
“What’s there to believe?”
“Shush, Odds,” Margot said. “Well, we were expecting him, dear.”
“I know but…”
“Should we warn him now or wait and watch while she throws herself at him?”
Margot sneezed to cover the chuckle. She adored Nancy, because she was a sweet woman and because Margot never had many friends. However, poor Nancy was always on the lookout for another husband, number three if Margot remembered correctly.
She did wonder how Nancy thought this man would come into her life when she never left the building. Not to mention the fact that neither of them were young anymore, being in their sixties. Personally, Margot had long passed such desires. She enjoyed her friends and upon occasion when he wasn’t being bad—Odds.
“I’ll be happy to go with you to meet him, Nancy,” Margot said, “but I need to get cleaned up first.”
“I wasn’t nervous about dropping by his apartment alone the first time,” Nancy said. Her eyes widened at sight of the knickknack Margot had bought recently. Margot removed it from her fingers and aimed Nancy toward the door.
“Of course you weren’t. You wait downstairs, and I’ll be there in just a few moments.
”
Nancy allowed herself to be shuffled out the door. “Do you want biscuits, Margot? I have the big kind.”
“Nancy, you can’t keep feeding me. Didn’t you say you’re on a budget and dependent on the check your son sends you?”
“I’ll make the biscuits just in case and wrap some for you to take home afterward.”
Margot shook her head. If there was anything Nancy loved more than stalking her next husband it was cooking for others. One had to accept it, but Margot decided she would figure out how to repay her friend. She had nothing much to offer, and already all the funds Lou her estranged husband had left her was gone. She would figure it out in time.
Margot hurriedly showered and dressed then headed downstairs to breakfast with Nancy and meet the new Super.
Chapter Two
Nancy patted a curl into place and glanced at Margot. “Do I look all right?”
“You’re beautiful, dear. Aren’t we a little too old to be overly concerned about our looks?”
Nancy’s shoulders slumped, and Margot felt bad for dampening her enthusiasm. “You’re right. I’m acting like a teenager, and it’s obvious the blush has long since left this rose.”
“Nonsense! We’ve got many years to go, and we’re looking good,” Margot said, straightening her shoulders.
“Aren’t you the one with an inordinate fear of breaking your hip?”
Margot glared down at Odds but pressed her lips together and knocked on the Super’s apartment door. How did a cat know the word inordinate anyway? Then she flushed at what that insinuated and tried to focus on the task at hand—meeting the Super.
The door opened, and a medium built African American man who appeared to be in his forties answered the door. Salt and pepper hair, tightly coiled but almost two-inches long had been parted at one side and held separated with a few hairpins. He wore a white but wrinkled dress shirt, black slacks, and black sneakers.
“Too bad. Not her type.”
“Odds!” Margot’s face burned.
“What? He has too much hair. You were thinking it.”
In truth, Nancy’s tastes did run along the lines of bald men. Margot glanced over at her friend and saw the disappointment. She stepped forward and held out her hand. “Hello, Mr. Um… I’m Margot Gardner, but you can call me Margot. I live in 205.”
The man nodded and smiled. He took her hand and shook it. “I’m Oliver Tillman, the new Super. I haven’t gotten around to meeting everyone yet, but come in. We can get to know each other better.”
Nancy said nothing, so Margot nudged her. Her friend came to life, her usual bubbly personality resurfacing. “Oh, where are my manners. I’m Nancy Shirley. I live two doors down. Don’t hesitate to come on by, and I’m sure I can visit you whenever I need something?”
Oliver seemed taken aback, and Margot noted how he didn’t exactly agree for Nancy to stop by. He invited them in and preceded them, limping along with one leg dragging a little.
“Bonus,” Odds quipped. “She likes them disabled so they can’t get away.”
Margot groaned. “Odds Gardner, you’re going straight back upstairs.”
Oliver turned around and spotted the cat. “Oh, did he try to scratch that chair leg? Don’t worry about it. Everything I own is old. What did you say? Odds?”
Nancy waved her hands, biceps skin flapping. “Don’t mind Margot. She’s crazy as a loon.” Nancy raised a hand next to her mouth, leaning toward Oliver, but she spoke loud enough for Margot to hear. “She thinks her cat talks back to her. They’re the cutest things though.”
Both Margot and Odds stared at Nancy.
Nancy just grinned back at her. All that time Margot had thought she kept the secret to herself, but in actuality she realized Odds tricked her into fussing at him out loud because of his rude comments. He was the cause of their secret being revealed, and she let him know it with a scowl.
“Don’t be upset, dear,” Nancy encouraged her. “Everyone knows, and Mr. Oliver is one of us now, right Mr. Oliver?”
“One of us, one of us,” Odds chanted.
Margot gripped her hands together. “I suppose pets aren’t allowed in the building, Mr. Oliver? I don’t have any extra money to pay a pet fee.”
Odds hissed.
“You’ve been here a month, Margot? Oh, you can just call me Oliver. I don’t see why you can’t keep the little guy. No one has complained, and the owner didn’t forbid it.”
“Thank you very much,” Margot said. She found emotion choking her throat. Maybe the fur ball had grown on her a little. “Well, if you change your mind, just let me know. Odds—that’s his name—is very hard-headed.”
“See how they get along?” Nancy stage-whispered.
Margot marched to the door. “Well, it was great meeting you, Oliver. Come along, Nancy. We don’t want to get in the way or overstay our welcome.”
“One more thing,” Nancy said, “about the third floor apartment, the one at the top of the stairs…”
“Yes, I’ve rented it out.” Oliver smiled.
Nancy’s countenance fell. “R-rented it? To one of the current tenants?”
“No, a new gentleman. He seems nice enough if quiet. I’m sure he won’t be too much trouble.”
“He has a family?” Margot asked nosily, now that the subject had been broached.
“No, I think he’s single.”
“Young?” Nancy of course.
“Thirties, probably. Is there a problem?” Confusion lit Oliver’s countenance as he looked from Margot to Nancy.
Nancy spun away from him and joined Margot at the door. Margot realized her shoes squeaked and looked pinchy. Maybe that’s what she could give her friend, shoes. All of Margot’s shoes were high-end, and she had an abundance of them. Just maybe there were a pair that would fit Nancy although her feet were a bit chubbier.
“No, no problem,” Margot said in answer to his question. “Thank you for your time, Oliver. Have a nice day.”
Margot shuffled Nancy into the hall, waited for Odds to join them, and then shut the door.
“Well, that was disappointing.” Nancy pouted. “Oliver seems like a very nice man, but I was so hopeful this time, Margot.”
“I know, dear. Let’s go to my apartment. I will fix you a nice cup of coffee, and I might have a gift to cheer you up.”
Nancy clapped her hands, almost pouncing with excitement. “I like surprises. I’ll meet you there with a treat.”
“We just ate, Nancy.”
“Never too soon for dessert!”
Chapter Three
Margot stumbled and righted herself. She couldn’t help the grin that spread over her face. Who says an old lady can’t walk dogs. Odds, that’s who, but she was proving him wrong. This trip was her second of the day.
To be safe and build up her strength, she had taken on only three dogs, and each of the pooches were very tiny. She felt them pull in their excitement, and at the beginning of the journey, there had been a little scuffle. Overall, things were going well.
Margot switched the leashes to her other hand and rotated her right shoulder. She was careful to keep the bag secure in place. For a moment, she had started to turn to look behind her. Then she recalled she had forbid Odds from coming along on this job.
Of course, he hadn’t wanted her to take the job in the first place, but Margot put it down to him being feline and her clients being canine. She understood his hesitation, and she would admit if only to herself, she missed the little scamp.
Ten minutes later Margot was covered in sweat, her arm ached, and quite frankly, the park didn’t appear so darn lovely as before. When she started out, a breeze had been stirring, easing the summer heat somewhat. Now, even though the sun had dipped low in the sky, the temperature was still too warm.
“If you would just do your business, Frankie,” she called to the little Chihuahua, who appeared to lead the pack. “I’m getting tired. You were so well-behaved this morning.”
Margot forgot
that no animals except Odds spoke back to her, and she had paused, expecting an answer. Frankie’s ears had twitched, indicating he knew his name, but that was all.
“It’s going to get dark soon, and I’ll have to take you back.” Her warning went on deaf ears. “I want to do a good job.”
Still nothing. Frankie ran this way and that, straining at the leash and encouraging the other two dogs to join him, or to challenge him for direction of the party. Margot scowled at the back of the dog’s head and then glanced around her. In the waning light, she spotted a bench with a good patch of grass to the back and beside it for the dogs to enjoy. Maybe if she sat for a minute, her bones would stop aching and she could catch her breath.
Margot’s attention was fully netted by the comfort the bench would provide. She didn’t watch where she was going. Rather, she let the dogs pull her straight ahead. They began a ruckus of yipping, which no amount shushing would quiet. Margot questioned the sense of taking on this job and for the first time acknowledged Odds had been right.
Movement under her arm caught her attention, and she looked down. In the narrow opening of her bag, she spotted oval reflective eyes. “Odds? How on earth were you able to hide in my bag without the dogs knowing?”
“Ninja.”
“Oh, Odds, really. I’m in no mood for your silliness.”
She would have gone on scolding him just because of her bad mood, but he wiggled free of the bag and leaped to the ground. Margot had a moment of frozen disbelief as the cat jumped inches ahead of Frankie and took off running. Frankie and both other dogs scurried after him, barking louder.
Margot found herself being dragged along, her arm feeling like it would be yanked from the socket at any second. Her feet tangled beneath her, and as she struggled to right her footing, she considered whether it might be better to turn the leashes loose. However, if she did that, the dogs would escape, and she would have to return to the owners to explain. Not only wouldn’t she get paid, she might have to pay. Could she be charged with a crime for losing a dog?
Odds Against (Margot and Odds Cozy Mystery Book 2) Page 1